Sleepover at Homura's Place
by BlueDragonIsAwesome
Summary: Homura invites Madoka to a sleepover at her apartment with the hopes that she can become closer to her. What could possibly go wrong?
1. The Sleepover

It couldn't be helped.

Homura's heartbeat quickened with each step she took within the confines of her apartment. Pacing had always seemed to get her thoughts in order, but this time it wasn't so easy.

Well, it never _was_ easy when it came to Madoka.

She glanced over toward the door and then the clock not too far away. The minute-hand had just clicked into the ten o'clock position. _Of course she's not here yet_ , she thought, biting her lip. _We agreed on 7pm._

Nevertheless, Homura couldn't settle her nerves. Things had been going too well for her recently. In her opinion, it was much more than she deserved given the sins she had committed getting to this point. Perhaps she was due for some misfortune that would force her to start over in yet another timeline.

Homura made her way back into her living room to assess the situation. There was not a speck of dust anywhere—perfect. She reached down for the table and straightened up the stack of DVDs for the thirteenth time that day. Although the pessimist within her had been echoing promises of an inevitable downturn to her luck, she was dead-set on this evening going well.

After all, Madoka was actually going to spend some quality time with her. This was a first in at least a half dozen failed timelines. Homura's desire to make a meaningful connection with her dearest friend was one that only grew with each reset she had to commit. It had been so long since the last time that Madoka hadn't looked at her with fear.

The clock ticked ever louder, a reminder of her simultaneously beloved and cursed gift with time. Madoka could be here any moment now.

Unless… There was a hold-up? Homura tapped her feet on the ground, sorting through her worries. She knew for a fact that there would be no witches causing mayhem today—she had made sure that wouldn't be an issue. There was still the matter of Madoka's other friends, though. It would be nearly impossible to guarantee that Sayaka wouldn't hassle Madoka on any given day.

The thought of Madoka not making it to their meeting threatened to suffocate her in a way she didn't think could still be possible. She straightened her hair between her fingertips.

Just when Homura had begun to convince herself that the worst case scenario had taken place, there was a knock on her door. Suddenly, Homura's heart leapt into her throat and she realized she had done very little to prepare for the possibility that Madoka would actually show up.

Homura approached the door and attempted to put steel back into her steps. Certainly this task wouldn't be as surmounting as a witch's battle, right?

Just as Homura had cracked the door, Madoka was already prancing inside. "Hello, Homura! I hope you don't mind, but I brought a lot of snacks!"

By a lot, evidently she meant enough for a party of six. Two paper bags seemed to tower over her tiny frame, full with the likes of sweets and chips.

 _Some things never change_ , Homura thought fondly.

"Here, let me," she insisted, immediately attempting to lighten the load off Madoka's arms. In doing so, she caught sight of what her friend had decided to wear for the day.

Madoka had elected for a breezy summer dress that reached to about her mid-thigh. It was a bright white with a pink bow over her chest that was definitely the centerpiece of the ensemble.

Homura nearly stumbled over her own feet at the sight, but luckily managed to betray her own heart's stutters. She was glad Madoka had brought over so many snacks now, as it gave her a means to hide the blush that creeped up and settled along her cheeks.

"Thanks, Homura!" Madoka said as she removed her shoes and closed the door behind her. Homura unpacked the bags of their treats and began organizing it from what she believed Madoka would be most likely to eat first.

Homura struggled to think of any words that seemed appropriate after having been assaulted by such a cute sight. She suddenly felt quite underdressed, having opted to wear her typical day clothes.

Madoka sat on the floor and began sifting through the DVDs Homura had laid out. "This is going to be so fun, Homura," she proclaimed. "I haven't been on a sleepover in quite some time."

Homura tried not to think about what kind of person had the pleasure of spending so much alone time with Madoka. She figured it would probably have been Sayaka, but the idea didn't enthuse her.

"Neither have I," Homura responded somewhat vaguely. She settled into the couch behind Madoka, drinking in the sight of it. Here she was, with the girl of her dreams looking nothing short of stunning. And this was all hers.

Madoka hummed as she sorted through the stack of movies Homura had rented for just this occasion. Homura was well aware of Madoka's taste in all venues of media and had rented only things she knew Madoka would enjoy: romance, comedy and fantasy.

Homura watched Madoka's shoulder muscles stretch and relax from the activity of sorting the movies into three piles. She had a powerful urge to reach out and massage them but knew better and instead settled on checking on her soul gem.

Apparently, Madoka had noticed this.

"How is it?" she asked, pausing her sorting and letting her hands rest on her thighs. Her eyes were drawn to the subtle glow that emanated from within Homura's palm where she had pulled out her soul gem.

"Fine," she immediately pocketed it again but winced at how harsh that must have come out. She amended, "I just purified it this morning, so there's no need for you to worry."

Madoka perked at the response and scooted closer. "What was it like? Did you get to use your power? Did Sayaka help out?" she gushed excitedly.

A sour taste settled into Homura's mouth. While this timeline had been the best yet, that had inevitably meant that Madoka still romanticized the idea of what it meant to be a Magical Girl. Since Mami, Kyoko and Sayaka had not yet met any grim fates, there wasn't a bad example for Madoka to see.

"Madoka, being a Magical Girl is extremely dangerous," she said flatly. "You shouldn't ask these types of questions."

In response, Madoka stuck out her lower lip in a too-cute-for-her-own-good pout. She grumbled, "Am I not supposed to worry about you sometimes?"

"I'm serious," Homura stated, refusing to relent. "We're not superheroes. We're doomed to a fate that we signed up for."

Homura felt a twinge of regret slip into her heart as she witnessed the change from an excited smile to a disappointed frown on Madoka's face. Her heart felt as if it were being tugged in more and more directions the longer she had to watch her pout.

Homura tore her eyes away from Madoka, instead reaching for one of the stacks of movies her friend had laid out. The pile she had picked up was evidently the "Yes" pile, and the two still left standing must have been the "No" and "Maybe" collections respectively.

Changing the subject, Homura asked, "Did you have a favorite in mind?"

Madoka stood up with somewhat reddened knees from the contact with the floor—she should've offered a pillow or a blanket!—and peered at the three movies Homura now had in her hands.

"Well, the _Alien_ one sounds interesting," Madoka said, somewhat subdued due to the previous conversation.

Homura had to do a double-take. How did that movie end up here? Certainly this would not be a movie Madoka would like, as it would fall under the category of "Horror," something she knew for a fact Madoka abhorred. She definitely did not remember picking that one up from the movie rental store.

"Are you sure?" Homura questioned with an eyebrow raised, "I'm fairly certain this is a horror movie."

"Yeah, well, Kyubey is pretty cute and from what you have told me he's pretty much an alien. So I don't see how it could be that bad!" Madoka chuckled. An image of the incubators flew across Homura's mind, and the last thing she would consider them to be was _cute_.

Homura had planned to intervene this logic before it budded into a dangerous decision later on. "Madoka—"

"I know, I know," she waved it off. " 'Kyubey's not cute and he is actually extremely dangerous and I should know better.' Right?" Madoka stuck her tongue out of one side of her mouth, drawing far too much attention to her lips for Homura.

Still, she didn't like how lightly her friend was talking about these matters.

Before she could get a word in edgewise, Madoka had already claimed the movie case and scurried over to the player with it in hand. Already she had inserted _Alien_ and started to boot up the television.

Homura's eyes drifted more than they should have during this debacle.

Madoka turned off the light while she was up before returning to settle onto the couch next to Homura. Still bothered, Homura continued, "Yes, and you would do well to remember how dangerous he can be."

Satisfied with that, Homura reached for the remote and changed the video input onto the proper setting for her DVD player. At the same time, Madoka reached for her first snack: sour gummies. In lieu of a response, the sound of rattling plastic and commercials filled the room.

It occurred to Homura at this time how seemingly close she was to Madoka now. The other girl's body heat seemed to emanate in waves, tantalizing her with the concept of being so close, and yet so far. She was certain this type of abuse would encourage even the most hardened individuals to scoot closer for cuddling.

However, even the most hardened individuals could not hold a candle to what Homura had been through.

So, she was able to restrain herself from doing the one thing she most wanted to do in that moment. Homura found her gaze wandering from the beginning trailers to Madoka's face, lit up by the reflection of the television set. She studied her reactions and amused herself with how expressive Madoka could be.

Was it the fact that Madoka was an open book? Or did Homura simply know her well enough to pick up even the most subtle of cues?

"The trailers are always my favorite part," Madoka claimed, turning with a smile aimed directly at Homura.

Not wanting to be caught staring, Homura attempted to look away and focused back onto the television as her face grew warmer. "Yeah, me too."

Madoka slid the bag of candy closer to Homura, hinting that she ought to have some as well. Usually, Homura didn't humor herself eating sweets—she always figured she didn't deserve such luxuries when she could never seem to save the one thing that meant the most to her.

But when Madoka looked at her in this way, with such warmth and without fear, she knew she was weak.

Homura accepted, and grabbed a handful of the treats, idly wondering how long the sourness would stick to one's tongue after ingesting one of these things.

At long last, the trailers ended. Homura felt inclined to ask, "Are you certain this is the movie you'd like to watch?"

The word "Play Movie" was highlighted on the screen.

Madoka nodded and kicked her feet with a level of excitement that never seemed to escape her. "Yes! Let's watch it."

Homura mulled over how this could play out. Perhaps, this movie slipping into her bag at the rental store was a sign of good fortune. Would it encourage Madoka to cling to Homura from fear of the events in the movie? Hopefully it wouldn't upset Madoka too much, though; Homura couldn't stand the thought of seeing Madoka cry anymore.

Past lives haunted her at this prospect.

On the other hand, thinking about Madoka cuddling with her made her lightheaded for different reasons.

The movie started at a slow pace. Madoka tore through much of the snacks she had brought over and every little thing she did only seemed to taunt Homura more. She wanted to be _closer_ , and the way Madoka's hand brushed against her leg as she reached for more was driving her up the wall. Even worse, that pink bow that was drawing attention to Madoka's chest seemed to be begging for Homura's attention.

Finally, she couldn't take anymore. Homura stood suddenly, knocking the bag of candy onto its side. "I'll… be right back, okay?" she said shortly, hiding her flushed expression with a turn.

"Ah, okay, don't be too long or you'll miss the whole movie!" Madoka responded cheerfully, completely oblivious. Normally, Homura would have felt inclined to respond that of course, she would be back very soon, but this was not a normal time.

She shuffled behind the couch and made for her bathroom as quickly as she could manage without raising alarm. Upon entering, she flicked the light switch on and leaned back on the closed door.

 _Why?_ She found herself thinking in vain. _Why must you do this to me?_

Homura wrapped her arms around herself and slid down into a crouch. It would seem that no matter how much she closed her heart to the world, it took little more than a smile for Madoka to break down all of her walls.

Her heart was racing as if she were still meeting Madoka for the very first time. She still remembered a time when she hadn't been a Magical Girl, where when her heart would race like this she had worried it was because of her medical condition.

Things hadn't changed since then. She had ran from her problems yet again, taking solace in her loneliness and pushing those around her away.

However, the thought of Madoka being scared from watching the movie all alone swayed her emotions even more.

"I have to control myself," she said quietly. She resolved that she needed to stop taking so many glances at Madoka, as she was only tormenting herself over what she could never have. "I will protect her… even if that means it's from my own desires."

The thought seemed to rattle her brain, but it seemed like the right thing to do for Madoka, so she knew it was the only thing she could do. Homura took a deep breath and straightened her hair out, attempting to reign in all the emotions that had ran rampant only moments ago.

When she finally felt settled enough, Homura opened the door back and turned the light off. Even from here, she could tell how Madoka was doing. The movie seemed not to have had a terrifying moment yet, based on the posture she was taking. On the other hand, although on the other side of the room, Homura could see Madoka shivering. Those shoulders she had fantasized about massaging earlier this evening now trembled from what must have been a far too efficient air conditioning unit.

Homura bit her lip at this sight, immediately regretting her lack of attention to this detail. Of course, Madoka would be cold even though to Homura she felt so warm. While it was hot outside, the air conditioning in here was set well below standard room temperature.

Not having any other options, Homura retreated into her bedroom and collected her comforter. She returned behind an unsuspecting Madoka, who jumped after Homura had covered her with the blanket.

"Is that better?" Homura asked, unable to help herself from adjusting the comforter so that it covered all of her.

"Wow, Homura, you sure surprised me!" Madoka gasped out. Evidently, the movie had already put her on high alert.

Homura returned to her seat, which was still slightly warm from earlier. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely, partly because she had startled her friend but also because she had allowed her to get cold in the first place.

"Don't worry about it, thank you so much," Madoka responded with the bright smile Homura had always attributed to her. Madoka was always so forgiving, even when she didn't deserve it.

Madoka lifted the blanket and slid it over on top of Homura. "Here, you're probably cold too, right?" she said, not really expecting a response.

Homura, now unable to stop the blood rushing to her face, shamelessly spoke. "A-Are you sure? It really should be all for you."

"Mm-hm," Madoka nodded her head. Then she lightly tapped Homura on the nose and rested her head on the other girl's shoulder. "See, now we can keep each other warm!"

 _Damn it_ , Homura cursed herself for not having the strength. Now, they were sharing a blanket and Madoka was practically snuggling up to her. Madoka had always been so brave… Even now, she cuddled up to the very object of her fear in many lifetimes.

Homura had never felt quite as much resolve to protect Madoka since she had the first time she had watched her die, or perhaps when she had made Madoka that promise so long ago.

Not long after, the movie had taken a turn for the worse. Terrifying creatures were being shown on screen, causing Madoka to react by covering her eyes and burrowing into Homura. Although Homura hated to see Madoka get so scared, she was not at all opposed to how close Madoka was clinging to her.

Perhaps if Homura had not been a Magical Girl, the tight pressure elicited from Madoka clenching her fingers into Homura's upper arm would be painful, but luckily that was not the case. She just wished her heart would still, and especially that it would stop longing for more.

Although each timeline would usually happen quite similarly with only some irregularities, this was a very new experience for Homura.

Suddenly, she felt a presence that did not belong.

"Why do humans always portray otherworldly beings as monsters or as an inconvenience on their society worthy of annihilation only to their own detriment?" an inquisitive voice suddenly questioned from over Madoka's shoulder.

At once, Homura had stood as if lightning had struck. Madoka watched in fascination as she had gone from a cozy outfit to her Magical Girl clothing. Already, she had gotten a gun out and had it readied on no other than the incubator, Kyubey.

"Oh my," he stated simply. "Are we simply going to reinforce this trope of destruction?"

"Get out," Homura spat. She should have known that if anyone could've thrown a wrench into this night, it would have been him. Why had this not occurred to her earlier?

"Well, well, it would seem I am interrupting something indeed," Kyubey assumed. Homura had little patience for him on a regular day, so on a day like this his appearance here would have almost certainly guaranteed his head getting blown off.

Homura's eyes were drawn to Madoka's, who had now gotten a front row view of Homura when she was very, very angry. This had brought some fear into the other girl, which after all this progress made Homura's heart drop.

Similarly, Homura lowered her gun and returned it to the space within her shield. Instead, she grabbed Kyubey by the scruff of his neck, and tossed him out the window with very little care.

"And don't come back!" she yelled after him, putting venom into her words and venting her own frustrations at the creature who had caused this perfect moment to be ruined. Homura then shut the window and latched it closed, not ready to face the look of horror she was sure had befell upon the one she loved.

Still, Homura was on edge from the incubator's sudden intrusion. She rushed over to where Madoka was still frozen stiff and grabbed onto her shoulders.

"Madoka, did he say anything to you?" she asked desperately. Her eyes searched for any sign of discomfort, lying, or manipulation on Kyubey's part. Just how long had he been there before she had noticed? Could he have been telepathically speaking to Madoka and filling her head with _lies_ like so many times before?

The movie played in the backdrop, complete with screams of terror.

"N-No," Madoka responded, with some hesitation, "Not anything you didn't also hear."

Homura leaned in with her lips stretched taut, her eyes betraying the deadly stillness in her posture. It was the expression of someone who had just been told a dear, healthy family member was on their deathbed.

"Ow, Homura, you're hurting me!" Madoka cried. Unbeknownst to herself, while gripping Madoka's shoulders she had been digging into them with the amount of pressure it would take to push a lion off a sofa.

Homura backed off right away and clenched her fists, digging her fingernails into her own flesh. How could she have just done that?!

"I'm sorry," she said, "I'm so sorry, Madoka." Her eyes burned at the reality of the situation: she had lost control and hurt the one thing she had sworn to protect no matter what. Surely she would hate her now and want nothing to do with her. This night was to end with Madoka never wanting to see her again, and Homura would simply have to live with that because at least she was _alive_ this time.

Homura's thoughts began to spiral downhill fast. It would seem that the best of emotions were always followed by the worst.

"M-Madoka?" Homura stuttered, her eyes failing her. Madoka had leapt into Homura and had crushed her in a bear hug. This was not something she deserved! Something so pure, and forgiving, and…

"It's okay, I understand," Madoka soothed. "I was only scared because you were so angry and it felt like you were directing it at me."

The thought of making Madoka feel so horrible overrode Homura's senses and she encircled her arms around her as well, taking care that her weapon would not hurt her. Tears still threatened to overwhelm her.

"I do what I do because I want to keep you safe," Homura admitted with all the honesty of a person falsely accused. Despite all that had happened in the past few minutes, she found herself far too content holding Madoka, which in turn led to more mental chastising of what a terrible person she must be.

Madoka made no move to end the hug until she was certain Homura had started to feel better. Upon pulling away, Madoka let her hands drag along Homura's arm until it reached the shield seemingly capable of endless destruction and life.

Homura flinched at this, preparing to pull away fully and transform back—something she should have already done but failed to do so because of her own incompetence. The way Madoka had held her hand so gently while doing this, though, gave her pause.

"What's it like?" Madoka asked, one hand clasped against Homura's and the other sliding across the surface of the shield. "To be able to pause time? Is it like a movie?"

Homura hesitated to go into this, as it seemed like it would only give Madoka bad thoughts about becoming a Magical Girl. She almost responded with the same manner she had the last time she asked her about this, but something compelled her otherwise. The intimacy of the situation seemed to give it a different tone than the callous excitement of only a couple of hours ago.

"Well…" Homura considered how she should answer. She didn't want to give Madoka the impression that there was any good reason to become a Magical Girl, but she felt she deserved the respect of a straight answer.

That being said, it was difficult to think straight at all being so close like this.

"It's fine," she settled on. "It allows me the ability to accomplish my long-term goal."

Madoka tilted Homura's arm to the side, attempting to see the connections and possibly where she could be storing all the weapons she used.

"Careful, you might make a bomb fall out," Homura teased. She regretted the joke immediately, though, as this made Madoka leap back with wide eyes. "Ah, I'm just kidding…"

Homura reached out for Madoka's hand again and returned it to the shield. Sensing her questions, she continued, "There's something of a… pocket, you might say. Except instead of storing keys, it leads to a level of unrealistic space that only I am able to manipulate."

The concept seemed to fly over Madoka's head.

It felt so foreign, to allow her so close to what is now such an essential part of her existence.

Then, Madoka's fingers strayed from the shield to further down, tracing a path of fire along Homura's skin every step of the way.

"So… this is it, right?" Madoka asked innocently, tracing the outline of where her soul gem rested.

"Yes, but don't…" The words caught in her throat just watching the look of adoration and awe that spanned Madoka's face, the aura of gentle dedication one would take when uncovering someone's deepest secrets.

She glided a finger over it, somewhat surprised by how cold it felt.

Madoka swallowed and looked up into Homura's eyes. _Alien_ had at this point finished long ago and was now stuck in an infinite loop on the title screen. Neither of them noticed or cared.

"…Can you tell?" Madoka asked, now unable to meet the other's gaze.

Homura paused. She knew exactly what Madoka was asking, and yet it still surprised her. Homura squeezed her friend's hand.

"No, not really. It isn't until you learn the truth that a Magical Girl would even consider it." To Homura, this was the honest truth, not just a way to make Madoka feel better.

A heavy weight seemed to be lifted from her shoulders at this revelation, and Madoka's smile was comparable to that of an angel.

"I'm so glad!" Madoka squeezed both of Homura's hands tightly then. "It's just like that then, huh? You can experience all the same things that a non-Magical Girl would, right? I know you always say it, but Homura, your life isn't over just because you're a Magical Girl. You can still hang out with friends, go to school, have your first kiss, have a… boyfriend," she paused, an unmistakable blush spreading all the way up to her ears.

"All those things, you can still have them! I know you can, because I'll always be right here to remind you and to help make sure you do. We can do this together, Homura, I—"

Homura couldn't handle it anymore. The most beautiful girl in the entire world was here, holding her hands, perhaps not even two inches away from her body. More importantly, she had started talking about the one thing she wanted more than anything else right now.

Homura wrapped her arms around Madoka and pulled her close all at once. She allowed one of her arms to hold her waist and the other behind her back and shoulders. All this was a blur to Homura, though, because finally, after all this time…

She had kissed Madoka. Homura had pressed her lips against hers gently but with great purpose; there was no room for misinterpretation. Her heart could have bounded right out of her chest just then, and even if that were the case she wasn't sure she could pull away long enough to chase after it.

Homura held onto her as if she were hanging onto the last remaining threads of her own life, with the desperation of a man who had not had water in a week and had only his hands to serve as a cup when he finally found it again.

Somewhat fleetingly, Homura noticed the sour taste that still lingered on Madoka's lips.

Madoka melted into the embrace. All the tension that had been in her muscles now escaped her. Homura felt a gentle touch on her back between her shoulder blades, where Madoka must have placed both of her delicate hands.

This encouraged her to deepen the kiss. Homura's hand naturally slid up Madoka's body and rested on the side of her face, which she used so she could gauge the amount of pressure she applied lest she hurt Madoka again.

Had she died and gone to Heaven? This world was far too cruel to have allowed Homura such pleasures without cost.

And yet, her pessimistic thoughts did not plague her now. All that could go through her mind were thoughts of Madoka and how truly spectacular this moment was and how she would go through a million timeline resets if it meant she could be here again.

After what seemed like an eternity but couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes, Homura realized she shouldn't indulge any further like this without making sure it was absolutely what Madoka wanted.

After all, Homura had been waiting what easily could have been several lifetimes for this moment. But Madoka, she had to remember… Had only technically known her for a couple of weeks.

Homura ended the kiss but allowed her forehead to rest against Madoka's. She felt quite pleased with herself, based on the breathless and flushed expression Madoka was sporting. A surge of happiness spread from her chest to the very ends of her toes and fingers, as if a flower had bloomed.

"H-Homura," she stammered, suddenly unable to meet the other girl's gaze.

Homura's hand automatically reached for Madoka's chin and guided her gently back in order to make eye contact.

"Madoka," she began. The name danced on her tongue in the most pleasing way. Homura couldn't help a smile. "You shouldn't worry so much about me. Whether or not my life can attain normalcy… Doesn't matter."

She shook her head, then swallowed. Should she stop there? No… What if she never got another chance?

"All I need is _you_."

The passion and conviction held behind this exclamation betrayed her intentions. The more intimate part of her thoughts that went unsaid were conveyed anyway.

Homura watched as Madoka blushed heavily, her fingertips blazing from the heat underneath. Madoka chewed her lip. She was thinking hard enough that Homura could practically hear gears churning.

At this, Homura began to feel anxious. Perhaps she had misread the situation; did she overstep her boundaries? She let her arms fall back to her side and gripped her sleeve instead. Almost as an afterthought, she finally reverted back out of her Magical Girl self.

"Hey, Homura, don't look so sad!" Madoka finally responded. She tapped her feet on the ground behind her and clasped her own hands behind her back.

"I just can't… answer yet," she continued sheepishly. "I need more time. But for now, can we just be like this?"

Homura nodded, somewhat relieved and yet experiencing a twinge of disappointment. She had to remind herself: Madoka didn't reject her, she just wanted to explore what all this really meant. And that was okay.

"Yes, of course," Homura said shortly. She grabbed Madoka's hand and tugged her back to the couch, aiding her back to her seat and putting the blanket back on. "Let me get another movie going."

Homura's heart was in all sorts of different places now. She wanted to be so much closer to Madoka but felt obligated to wait patiently for her friend to unpack her own emotions. On top of that, she was well aware of just how little time there was before the day of reckoning—the day when Walpurgisnacht would once again wreak havoc in Mitakihara City.

If Madoka didn't make a decision before then, it could be too late. If things went poorly with Walpurgisnacht, Homura would have no choice but to rewind time _again_ and start all over. And then, this wonderful night… It would mean nothing.

All these conflicting feelings left Homura aloof and distant. Otherwise, she wasn't sure what she might do.

Homura didn't bother sifting through the remaining movie stack—she had already decided this morning which one she would show Madoka.

It didn't take very long for the movie to boot up and begin showing the trailers. Homura avoided Madoka's gaze as she returned to her own seat. She would not persuade Madoka into something she didn't want.

But of course, Madoka had other plans. She always seemed to thwart Homura's meticulous designs.

Madoka didn't hesitate to rest her head on Homura's shoulder this time. Evidently, when she had requested that they remain the way they were… she didn't mean as friends, but rather like _this_. Homura recognized that her pessimism had gotten the best of her again—Madoka still wanted to be near her, she just didn't want a label on what it was.

Now, her slight temper tantrum and spiraling mood seemed ridiculous.

As the romance movie got underway, Homura could already tell just how invested Madoka had become already. She gasped when the protagonist's boyfriend had revealed that he had found someone else within the first ten minutes of the film, blushed and looked away during the more risqué sequences, and fumed when the new romantic interest didn't catch on right away.

"Do you mind?" Madoka asked suddenly. Homura peeled her eyes away from the screen and glanced to her side. Madoka glanced down at Homura's lap.

"Ah," Homura smiled lightly, already fully aware of the unspoken request. She lifted her arms up. "Not at all."

Madoka readjusted her position and laid down on Homura's lap, allowing her head to rest. She had her legs curled up and one hand placed on Homura's thigh directly in her line of sight. At the same time, Homura pulled the blanket up to make sure it hadn't slipped off during this change.

"Thank you, Homura," Madoka grumbled quietly. Her eyelids were halfway shut.

"You are always welcome, Madoka," Homura said. Her voice carried a level of warmth in it that washed over Madoka and accomplished far more than the comforter could on its own. She lowered her arms over Madoka and without much thought began to caress her gently.

Madoka's bright pink hair felt just as amazing between her fingers as it looked. Homura reached for the ribbons that tied her beautiful hair up and carefully pulled at the ends to remove them. She did so slowly so as not to bother Madoka while she was drifting off, but also figured it may be uncomfortable to sleep with them on.

Upon collection of the red accessory, Homura set it to the side and continued her work smoothing out Madoka's hair. In her past lives, Madoka had always had a fondness for her own hair. She had often made comments about how beautiful it was and how she would have loved to braid it herself.

The thought of her doing so now made Homura blush.

Beneath her, Madoka's breathing was slowing and her eyes were now shut. It would only be a matter of minutes until she was fast asleep, Homura figured. She supposed after nearly getting through two movies and an emotional moment, the time must have slipped away and it had gotten late without her realizing.

Even so, Homura's heart was content. She brushed a stray hair of Madoka's that had fallen into her face and nestled it behind her ear. Although she had no intentions of the night going this way, it had all gone so perfectly in the end.

She couldn't help the places her mind wandered.

Did this mean Madoka would be this close to her from now on? Could this lead to… more?

Homura's heartbeat picked up at the implication and her palms got clammy. The ribbon attached to her friend's dress still mocked her despite being covered in shadows and a blanket.

 _Perhaps I should walk her home after school tomorrow_ , Homura considered. _To protect her, of course._

The romantic movie was now reaching its climax. The woman had realized her love for her friend who had been there for her all along, even despite her previously toxic relationship. The male friend had declared his own love to her by way of a melody and a gift. This romantic gesture had tipped the scale for the both of them, leading to great happiness.

As they leaned in for a kiss, Homura was reminded of her own only an hour or so ago. Her hand not currently petting Madoka subconsciously touched her lips, questioning the reality of it all.

They still tingled slightly at the sensation.

Homura fantasized about if the couple in the movie could have been the two of them. She had never been very interested in romantic movies like this, but it was hard not to get swept up by the possibility that this could be hers.

Homura's hand now drifted to Madoka's shoulder. She rubbed the other girl's back with the amount of care a person might give when handling a fragile family heirloom.

Inevitably, Homura's thoughts returned to realism. She had to keep her eye on her ultimate goal. Walpurgisnacht would be here soon, and although things had gone well ( _too_ well, Homura reminded herself) up to this point, the hardest challenge of all had yet to occur.

Homura questioned how she should proceed now. Of course she needed to continue taking out every witch and looking after the other Magical Girls in the city in the hopes that they may join together to defeat the calamity, but now there was more to do than ever before.

Now that she had gotten a glimpse at what true happiness was like, Homura wanted it all to herself. On top of ensuring things went according to her plans, there was also the issue of spending more time with Madoka _just like this_ and perhaps building something more.

The movie had now been on the title screen for about ten minutes. Homura had not even noticed since she had been so lost in her thoughts and in her careful attention on the other girl.

Homura wanted to stay like this forever.

 _If only my power weren't so limited_ , Homura lamented. _I could do just that._

She sighed. Looking around her surroundings, she garnered that the time was now nearly midnight. The snacks that Madoka had brought along had been nearly demolished save for one bag of candy.

Homura slowly slid her hand underneath Madoka's head and lifted her just enough to be able to get up. Thankfully, Madoka didn't stir. She quickly turned off the DVD player and television and wrapped up the remaining bag of candy for Madoka's enjoyment later. She collected the empty containers and put them in the trash.

Now only one thing remained.

Satisfied with the condition of her living room, Homura returned to the adorably snoozing girl wrapped up in her blanket on her couch. She folded the blanket in such a way that it still covered Madoka but wouldn't fall off during her next maneuver.

Then, Homura bent down and reached her arms out toward Madoka. One arm supported the sleeping Madoka's neck and the other cradled beneath the crook in her knees. Gently, Homura lifted Madoka up and held her close.

Even now, it surprised her how light Madoka was. Homura could carry her with ease after all those timelines of training she had endured. It filled her with courage and happiness that Madoka felt safe enough to be so vulnerable in her presence.

Perhaps her task wasn't such an impossible one after all.

Homura tilted Madoka so that her head and body naturally leaned against her own. Carrying her this way only strengthened her resolve and protective nature, which she vowed would never fail her.

The living room was fleeting now as Homura slowly treaded away. She took great care that her steps were flat and without recoil so that Madoka could continue to sleep soundly, even though it took twice as long.

Once Homura reached her bedroom door, she leaned her back against it to force it open. Thankfully, she had enough sense to leave it cracked earlier. She entered sideways so as not to smack her dear friend's head against the doorframe.

Within moments, Homura laid Madoka down gently into the very same bed she had taken refuge in many nights. Her gentle breathing and tensionless face were stunning in this setting. Tearing her eyes away from this sight, Homura began to unfold the blanket and cover Madoka neatly with it. Although covered in darkness, she managed to do so with ease since she knew Madoka's body frame so well.

"Mm, Homura," Madoka mumbled. It made Homura stumble slightly in her task to hear her name said so breathlessly by her love. She quickly finished adjusting the comforter and stepped closer to the head of the bed.

Homura placed a hand on Madoka's shoulder and reached down for a peck on her cheek. She allowed herself to linger, memories of earlier flooding her senses shamelessly. She then leaned back and whispered in Madoka's ear, "Sweet dreams, Madoka."

Satisfied with herself, Homura shuffled back toward the door and glanced back at her handiwork. Madoka was snuggled up in her bed at this very moment, now tucked in quite comfortably. The scene just begged Homura to return to Madoka's side and hold her close while she slept, but she knew she shouldn't.

Homura closed the bedroom door behind her slowly so as the clicking noise of the lock wouldn't alarm her sleeping friend. It took nearly all of her strength to drag herself back into the living room.

She collapsed into the couch she had been with Madoka on only moments prior. She pulled a throw pillow close and squeezed it with all her might.

The seats beneath her were still warm.

 _Madoka_ , she thought heedlessly. _I hope my feelings reach you._

It didn't take much longer for Homura to feel her eyelids growing heavy. Her last waking thoughts were of Madoka's beautiful and contagious smile and her dreams of what could be between them.


	2. Distractions

" _Why does it have to be this way?" Madoka cried. She clawed at her own throat and gasped for breath. "We did it! We defeated Walpurgisnacht, so why…?"_

 _Homura hovered over her dear friend. She had scratches running up and down her arms and legs that bit at her senses but it did little to stop her from holding Madoka. She choked back tears of her own, knowing all too well what would soon follow._

" _I'm so sorry, Madoka, I wasn't able to—"_

 _Madoka squirmed suddenly and shrieked in pain. Her soul gem was tainted and gleamed dangerously, spiderweb cracks sinking into the glass at an alarming rate._

" _H-Homura, promise me you won't forget!" Madoka pleaded desperately between gritted teeth and squinted eyes. "Please don't forget the vow we made!"_

 _With one arm supporting Madoka's back, Homura clutched Madoka's hand in her other. Fierce determined eyes met ghostly pale ones._

" _I won't!"_

 _Madoka smiled weakly. Evidently, this was the end of her rope. Her soul gem's cracks deepened and her wails filled Homura's ears._

 _Then, everything was dark._

* * *

Homura awoke with a start. She immediately sat up and reached into her pocket to retrieve her phone. The dark screen reflected her appearance back to her—unkempt hair, a cold sweat dripping down her face, and eyes as wide as saucers. It was as if she had seen a ghost.

Realistically, she realized, she pretty much had.

Homura clicked the power button on her phone and her eyes darted for the date. Her heart finally settled itself when she confirmed it wasn't the day Walpurgisnacht would arrive.

She sighed and dropped the phone down beside her. Subconsciously her hand began combing through her hair in a futile attempt to establish some semblance of order. Even so, her hands shook in the process.

 _So my past lives have returned to haunt me yet again_ , Homura thought. It would be difficult to shake the ominous feeling the dream had left her with.

"Good morning!"

Homura jumped at the sudden exclamation and assumed the battle-ready position. This meant taking on her magical girl form and reaching for a weapon. It took about half of a second later for her to connect the voice and appearance of her assailant as none other than Madoka.

"O-Oh, it's just you," Homura said. The tension in her shoulders faded away and she reverted back to her normal form. Having to relive such a painful moment in a previous timeline had put her on edge more so than usual. On a regular day, Homura would have recognized Madoka's cheerful voice immediately and would not have mistaken it as a hostile entity.

Homura's reaction had seemingly startled Madoka as well. She had taken a step back and raised her hands in submission. A sheepish smile graced her lips. "I'm sorry, Homura, I didn't mean to scare you! Are you alright?"

"Yes, just a bad dream is all," Homura responded as she attempted to reign in all of her rampant thoughts and emotions. She closed her eyes and willed the image of Madoka's distraught expression as she lay dead to leave her mind. It took even more effort before the distinct sound of her screams stopped piercing her eardrums.

A pair of hands drew Homura's away from her sides and clasped them together. She opened her eyes to find Madoka's understanding and dangerously sweet smile prepared to ambush her. She gently said, "I'm so sorry to hear that, it must have been because I stole your bed from you and made you sleep on the couch! I take full responsibility."

Homura's mind was now occupied with the unnerving thought of Madoka worrying that she had caused her trouble. Before she could resist, Madoka's smile grew infectiously. "So! Let me cook breakfast for you while you get ready for school, Homura. Papa taught me a really great recipe for super fluffy eggs! I'm certain it will chase off any nightmare you may have had."

The prospect of eating a home-cooked meal made by Madoka sent shudders through Homura's body. This timeline had already been too good to be true—her first night spent under the same roof as Madoka, an actual kiss, and now a meal presumably made with love as a main ingredient? Homura was quite certain she would sooner melt into a puddle than be able to partake in such a delectable feast.

"Ah, you're being far too kind, Madoka," came Homura's response. She cursed herself internally for rejecting a sentiment that had sent her heart fluttering so. That being said, she definitely didn't want to trouble Madoka or make her feel indebted in any way.

Thankfully, the other girl insisted.

"No worries! I've already decided," Madoka said. It was then that Homura finally got a good look at her friend's appearance. Madoka had already gotten dressed in her school uniform and neatly combed and pinned up her hair. Suddenly, Homura felt incredibly drab in comparison.

"Well, in that case," Homura smiled back lightly, "I'll accept. Thank you for this."

Madoka was already rummaging through her fridge in the kitchen in search of the correct ingredients. Homura was glad she had grabbed some groceries when she picked out the movies for their sleepover.

"No need to thank me. It'll be ready by the time you're dressed," Madoka claimed as she dragged the egg carton out of the refrigerator and placed it onto the counter. Homura drank in the sight in all its glory. If she was able to defeat Walpurgisnacht, could this be something she could look forward to every morning?

As she made her way back into her bedroom, Homura had a noticeable skip in her steps.

Madoka had already had the foresight to make the bed. Her clothes from yesterday were folded neatly next to her schoolbag. Homura idly wondered how long Madoka had been awake before she'd greeted her.

She wondered further if Madoka had put any thought to last night's occurrences.

Homura blushed as she removed her own uniform off the hanger in her closet. She hadn't thought much about it herself, but for good reason. If she were to relive that memory she was certain the desire to recreate it would be incredibly strong.

Against her better judgment, though, her lips tingled and the taste of sour candy rested on her tongue. Would Madoka's lips taste different than last night?

Homura slipped into her uniform, making sure not to get her long hair caught underneath. She knew this was dangerous territory to be treading. She smoothed out her clothing before heading to the bathroom where she could brush her hair. She didn't have enough time this morning to take a shower since Madoka wanted to eat breakfast together, so she resolved to take one later this evening.

Madoka's hairbrush rested on the bathroom sink next to Homura's. Even a mundane object like a comb filled Homura with thoughts of the future. Unheeded, the events of the romance movie from last night returned to her. One of the jokes the bachelor friend had made was that a relationship was getting too serious if the girl left her toothbrush over in his house.

"Maybe… one day," Homura mumbled to herself. Once she finished brushing her hair and teeth, she checked herself over to make sure everything was in order. Her hair was finally presentable without loose strands getting in the way and her breath now no longer seemed to belong to a dying animal. Indeed, everything was well.

Homura picked up Madoka's hairbrush gently and upon returning to her bedroom slipped it into the other girl's bag where her other belongings now rested. She was acutely aware of the added weight this would add to Madoka's bag and wondered if it would be strange if she were to offer carrying it for her when they left.

"Breakfast is ready!"

The timing was uncanny, but Homura wasn't one to complain. She grabbed both of their schoolbags and returned to the living room.

"I'm here," Homura said as she set down their bags on the couch. A cursive glance toward the kitchen revealed that Madoka had really gone all out for her sake. Two plates garnished with eggs, sausage and toast paired with two half glasses of orange juice were waiting to be enjoyed.

Madoka was poised with a dull knife. "How much butter do you like on your bread?"

Homura smiled. Madoka's attention to detail in even the smallest avenues always astounded her. "Just a light layer, please."

Homura took a seat at her small dining table and found herself feeling an emotion that not too long ago would have been difficult to place. It took a lot of effort not to have a wide grin permanently plastered to her face. Her mind was uncharacteristically void of any comprehensible thoughts, and she found it was something she could get used to.

"Here you go!" A warm plate and cold glass were placed before Homura. Madoka had already retrieved utensils and napkins as well.

"Thank you!" Homura said as she began with the eggs. It was evident that Madoka had learned from a master chef judging by the way the flavors wove together and melted in her mouth. Who knew eggs and toast could be so delicious?

Madoka seemed equally pleased with herself, resolving to eat her meal as quickly as possible.

 _Can she even taste how good it is like that?_ Homura wondered as she watched Madoka practically inhale the entire piece of toast in one bite. Similarly, the orange juice went down in only three gulps. By the time Madoka was finished with her entire breakfast, Homura had scarcely even finished half of her share.

Madoka collected her dishes and smiled at a clearly spellbound Homura. "Is it really that good?"

"Oh yes," she responded at once. "If Ms. Saotome cooked eggs the way you do, I'm certain none of her boyfriends would have complained."

The two shared a laugh at their homeroom teacher's expense. As Homura finished up a meal she was certain would be fit for the Divine, Madoka got to work cleaning up. There was a contented silence that followed. Madoka fixed her eyes ahead of her and scrubbed her drinking glass thoroughly. She shifted her weight to one side and swallowed.

"You know," she began, "I wouldn't mind doing this for you more often."

Homura nearly choked on the sausage she had been eating. She searched for some indication of Madoka's intentions or perhaps some inkling of emotion in her expression but could only get a good look at the back of her head. Unfortunately, Homura could garner no insight from it.

Sensing the distraught nature of the girl behind her, Madoka amended, "I mean, cooking for you. I'd really hate for you to not have homecooked meals. Plus… The thought of you eating all alone makes me sad, Homura."

Madoka turned off the faucet and turned back toward her friend. Her expression radiated an infectious warmth. Homura's surroundings suddenly felt about ten degrees hotter and she wished desperately that her uniform didn't sport long sleeves. The hopeful intensity with which Madoka now stared at her was threatening to swallow her. It really didn't help either that Madoka was _also_ blushing.

"So!" Madoka awkwardly transitioned as she fiddled with her fingers. "Starting tomorrow, I'll bring an extra lunch for you and we can eat together during break. How's that sound?"

Homura's tongue was in knots. She had fantasized about exactly this type of scenario—getting to eat Madoka's cooking every day, but she certainly had not considered the possibility of it becoming a reality. Now, her imagination ran wild: Could they sneak up onto the rooftop of the school and eat their meals in private? Would Sayaka get jealous? Would any rumors circulate?

Homura stood, grabbing her own dishes and headed toward the sink. She let her arm lightly brush against the other girl's. As she began scrubbing her plate, she briefly closed her eyes and smiled. The images of what could be floated beneath her eyelids.

"If it means that I get to have more of _this_ ," she said, intentionally vague, "Then I would love it."

Madoka squeaked in happiness and began rattling off all the different recipes that she wanted Homura to give a try. Truthfully, Homura's mind slipped away from the details of their conversation and instead made itself quite comfortable questioning Madoka's inspiration. Homura was well-aware of Madoka's constant need to help others in spite of the detriment to her own well-being as it was one of the things she both loved and despised most about her.

It hadn't been since the first timeline that Madoka had done so on Homura's behalf, though. Her heart leapt at the reminder of the very first time that Madoka had saved her. In these eyes that vowed to make sure she wouldn't go hungry, she saw the very same Madoka that had become her hero so long ago.

Homura glanced at the clock that rested above the sink. Classes would begin in a little over thirty minutes. "We should head out," she said, hurriedly ensuring that all the electronics were turned off and her kitchen was tidied up. At the same time, Madoka shrugged on her bag and smoothed out her skirt. She then grabbed Homura's bag as well.

"Let us be off!" Madoka joked with a wry grin. Homura could only manage a half-hearted smile in return. As the two made their way to the door and on their way to school, a thought nagged in the back of Homura's mind.

Despite all the bliss she had experienced in the past 24 hours, Homura could never escape the fate she had signed up for. When she had checked the time, inevitably the date was also ingrained into her mind. May 7th. Unlike this morning with her nightmare scare, the memories of past life experiences on this day returned to her.

There were only ten days left before Walpurgisnacht would be here. Significantly, these were also the critical days in every timeline for Sayaka which could throw a wrench in her meticulous plans. Already Homura had failed to prevent her from making a contract with Kyubey. Although she had not yet begun to let a curse grow within her heart, it would almost certainly create issues at some point this week. Hopefully Mami's endurance this time would have some positive effect on her fate.

Unfortunately, this would divert Homura's attention away from Madoka. There was one saving grace, however—Madoka seemed genuinely interested in _not_ forming an alliance with Kyubey in this timeline. Perhaps this would give her just the opportunity she needed to save everyone?

Homura wracked her mind about the coming days and how best to change her approach when she finally realized how silent their walk had been. A pit formed in her stomach and a sick feeling settled there.

But when she glanced over to her companion, Madoka had only a gentle smile on her face. She seemed not to be bothered in the slightest by Homura's lack of manners.

 _I will succeed this time_ , she vowed. _I will keep her safe._

"Hey, Madoka!"

Homura's eyes darted forward. The sick feeling grew stronger and developed a slightly sour taste in her mouth.

"Oh! Hi Sayaka, Mami!" Madoka beamed as she raised one hand up in a greeting. Both Mami and Sayaka seemed to be walking to class together today as well. Sayaka's eyes bored into Homura's and furrowed a brow in what could only be interpreted as distrust.

Internally, this ruffled Homura's metaphorical feathers. The feeling was mutual.

"What're you doing with the transfer student?" Sayaka said, crossing her arms with a light frown. Mami's smile was stitched to her lips in such a way that Homura knew it was forced and only represented Mami's desire for peace among all the magical girls that resided in this city.

Madoka's smile fell slightly. "She's my friend, Sayaka. And her name is Homura."

A strange triumphant feeling washed over Homura. Despite her best efforts, she often felt in competition with Sayaka for Madoka's attention. She'd always feel a twinge of jealousy whenever Madoka would consistently worry about Sayaka's wellbeing rather than her own. The only thing more frustrating about it was the fact that Sayaka took it for granted.

Nonetheless, Homura's heart felt a confused elation at Madoka's defense on her behalf. On the one hand, it showed that Madoka cared for her enough to stand up to her present best friend. On the other, Homura was so used to doing such things for Madoka, it made her slightly uneasy to be indebted in this way.

Homura simply watched with a cool expression.

"Well, anyways," Sayaka diverted, "It'd be nice if someone else around here would help out with the familiars. Mami and I had to get up at 5am to take care of one this morning."

Mami finally found an ideal moment to join in. She sighed and lamented, "Indeed, there has been quite the increase in witch and familiar activity recently. But even so, a magical girl shouldn't complain!"

Sayaka huffed. The tension that was in the air moments ago seemed to dissipate. Homura knew all too well why there were more witches and familiars in Mitakihara City. Instead of engaging in conversation, Homura focused on Madoka's reactions and nonverbal cues.

It didn't take too much longer before the four girls made it to their respective classrooms and seats. It was as if a tiny creature was gnawing away at Homura's insides as she was forced to listen to Madoka and Sayaka chat from somewhere behind her.

It was too bad she didn't sit closer to Madoka herself.

The five minutes before homeroom started were torturous. Homura set up her laptop and tried in vain to ignore the flare of annoyance that flickered just underneath her skin. It crawled from her chest to her extremities, which twitched slightly from the stimulus.

"I was so worried about you both!" cried Hitomi, butting into Madoka and Sayaka's conversation. "Neither of you were on time this morning."

"I'm sorry, Hitomi," Madoka said, her voice lingering somewhere on the spectrum between sincerity and regret. "I stayed at a friend's house last night, so that's why I wasn't able to meet up with you guys."

Homura double-clicked her note-taking application with more force than was necessary. The pop-up filled her screen at once. In the backdrop, she could practically hear Sayaka's eyes roll. Before the other girl could get a comment in edgewise, Ms. Saotome bounded into the classroom.

It was at this point that Homura went into autopilot mode. She remembered vividly the next set in the drama that was Ms. Saotome's love life as well as every bit of the lecture scheduled for today. The English lesson would go into more detail about passive voice while the Mathematics lesson would delve into more complicated forms of polynomial factorization and their applications.

But all that was besides the point. Homura picked at her brain to recall all of the different outcomes she cared about that had occurred in past timelines on this date. Typically, Sayaka would have taken to despair and thrown herself into her work by this time. Kyoko had already taken an interest in Sayaka as well which meant things were playing out somewhat like the previous timeline in that regard.

Mami was still a curiosity, though. Homura considered the possibilities—if Sayaka became a witch, the outcomes were always determined: Mami and Kyoko would both definitely die. Despite Homura's own reservations toward the inexperienced magical girl, it was clear that her fate would directly influence those around her.

Homura tapped a finger against her desk.

Could she prevent even Sayaka from an ill-advised fate she herself had construed? More importantly, could she stop Sayaka from taking the other magical girls with her?

These thoughts swirled around in Homura's mind. The more layers she unwrapped, the more uneasy she felt. It was as if this timeline was spiraling out of her control now; the control that she so desperately craved in order to carve out the outcome she desired more than life itself.

The day passed in a blur. Although Madoka had promised to share lunches with Homura in the future, it seemed today wouldn't be the start of the trend. Sayaka and Hitomi both dragged her to their own preferred locale for the break. This left Homura to stew in her thoughts further.

 _Should I try to meet with Madoka after school?_

Homura paused, surprised at her own change of pace within her thoughts. There were two conflicting perspectives: In doing so, she would either reinforce the sincerity behind her feelings for Madoka or come off as overbearing and ruin… whatever it was they had going now.

A flashback to the previous night attached itself in her mind's eye. The romance movie the two had watched together gave her an even better—albeit obviously _romanticized_ —idea of how to proceed. As was customary, Homura planned out each detail diligently. This must have been what it would be like to be a normal schoolgirl with a crush on someone in her class.

Somehow, the thought made Homura's heart sing.

* * *

After classes had finally halted, Homura had a mission in mind. She collected her bag and made her way out of the classroom. She reveled slightly at the way Madoka's eyes followed her.

Thankfully, Homura was certain no witches or familiars would cause any trouble today. Usually, Sayaka would defeat any sign of one at this point, which would instead make it a bit of a pain to generate a Grief Seed as needed. But in this case, it was good news; Homura had just purified her soul gem yesterday so she was otherwise free to execute her plan.

She quickened her pace. Despite the seemingly good state of affairs, she knew better than to have blind faith in Sayaka Miki. She resolved to keep an eye out for anything suspicious and to finish her task as soon as possible.

Soon, the store came into vision. Across the street read a sign titled, "Stuffed 'N Stuff." Although the name may have caused some confusion to passersby, it was indeed the destination Homura had in mind.

Stuffed 'N Stuff was a family-owned business that occupied a small lot in the eastern part of Mitakihara City. It was by all intents and purposes a toy store that coasted by on meager sales due to larger big-box retailers downtown that attracted most parents instead.

Homura pushed the door open, causing a small chime to sound. An older man jogged from the back of the store with a large grin plastered to his face.

"Why hello there!" he greeted, wringing his hands together. He was wearing a button-down white shirt with a red bow-tie and formal, black pants. Homura glanced around. She was the only customer at this time. "How can I help you?"

Homura walked immediately to the left-hand side display case. This side of the store was dedicated to its namesake: stuffed animals. The right portion was filled with models and figures. The shop owner followed her and watched her gaze.

"Looking for a stuffed animal, eh? Do you have a favorite kind?" he suggested, a glimmer in his eyes. He pointed out an antiquated brown teddy bear that had buttons for eyes. Its arms and legs seemed to pivot on an axis. "This one would do well for most any occasion."

Homura looked upward to spy the slightly larger variances. She said, "I'm looking for a gift."

One in particular caught her eye. There was a pink pig sitting on the second highest shelf, sporting a large snout and big button eyes. By all counts it was very cute.

The man noticed Homura's fixed gaze. He chuckled and reached up for the stuffed toy.

"This one?"

Homura nodded and was soon handed the pig stuffed animal. She grazed her hand over its fabric and was taken aback by just how soft it was. She flipped it over and noted that the spiral tail wasn't simply a tough spring but was actually covered in similar fleece. The cute little pig seemed to be calling to her.

"I'll take this one, please," Homura requested. The thought of Madoka cuddling with a stuffed toy she had given her sent shivers down her spine. Given that she had snuck onto Madoka's roof in past timelines to stop Kyubey from tricking her friend, Homura had definitely seen the massive collection of stuffed animals Madoka had acquired.

Indeed, she found the image of Madoka hugging a stuffed toy incredibly cute and irresistible. It wasn't farfetched to say that the levels of adorableness that Madoka could achieve in Homura's eyes were equivalent to stuffed toys for others. She also figured the overwhelming desire to hug Madoka when she did such cute things was likely a response normal girls attributed toward stuffed toys.

"So, who's the lucky lady?" said the old man, smiling kindly. The two walked over toward the counter to finish the transaction.

"A dear friend," Homura said simply. She pulled out her wallet from her schoolbag and procured the adequate payment. He thanked her in response and gave her the receipt.

"How very kind of you," he replied. "I do hope she likes it."

The shopkeeper grabbed a gift bag from underneath the counter. It was a white bag with pink starburst symbols and a red ribbon tied around the handle. He placed the pig inside with the utmost care and covered it with hot pink tissue paper on top.

Homura thanked the man for his help and proceeded to exit the store. The bag itself was more than she bargained for and the quality of the gift itself exceeded her expectations. It was heavy enough to know it was of decent materials. It was too bad that his store didn't receive more customers as he clearly deserved it.

Homura sighed. Just another tragedy in a different timeline she was helpless to change.

"Whatcha got there, transfer student?"

Homura stopped in her tracks. The voice echoed from somewhere behind her, a suspicious tone that never seemed to cease. Homura turned on her heel to face her adversary. She tilted the bag slightly behind her.

"That is none of your concern," she said plainly. Sayaka pouted and crossed her arms. Her own schoolbag hung off her elbow casually.

"I'm going to be straight with you, Homura Akemi," Sayaka began. "I don't trust you as far as I could throw you. And I definitely don't trust you around Madoka."

Homura's eyebrow twitched and her frown deepened. Sayaka continued, "So if you ever do anything that compromises her safety _or_ hurts her, you'll be sorry."

The warning fell flat on Homura's ears. It would sooner give rise to a laugh than any sort of fear within Homura's heart, as from her own perspective it would seem that Sayaka was often the cause of such things herself. Homura scoffed.

"I would never think to do such a thing," she said finally. "But you would do well to remember the same."

Homura sized Sayaka up. The less experienced magical girl would pose little threat in her current state. Although driven by emotions, Homura's time stop ability would easy quell any rebellious movement in an instant. This was all the more obvious since the other magical girls in Mitakihara City still had no idea of Homura's innate power, and therefore could not yet hope to counter it.

That being said, Sayaka put up a strong front. Her shoulders were squared and her chest puffed out, resembling that of a rogue cat defending its turf tooth and nail. Her fists were clenched and her eyes pored into Homura's.

Yes, she was quite convincing.

Then, the sound of buzzing interrupted their disagreement. Homura's eyes were immediately drawn toward Sayaka's bag, which vibrated in a side pocket.

"That must be my phone," Sayaka murmured. Although Homura had half a mind to take her leave at this opportunity, she felt a strange unease rising within her. It was as if her stomach was tilted on its side and attempting to create a balance not naturally intended or possible.

Sayaka began digging for her cellular device. By the time she had found it, the call had been dropped and the vibrating had stopped. Sayaka flipped it open and her face paled.

"That was Madoka."


	3. All Tied Up

How stupid could she possibly be?

Homura had repeated the events of this month many times before and knew almost verbatim what major points would occur at what time, and yet she always managed to screw it up anyways in some way or another. Evidently, she had gotten distracted.

Homura spun on her heel and started running. She knew well enough where Madoka would probably be—somewhere between their school and her home, likely—and didn't care for Sayaka's help. She was certain the novitiate magical girl would only get in her way.

Her soul gem weighed heavily in her palm. Convenience stores and a residential district flashed by her peripheral.

 _Which Witch could it be?_ Homura considered. _The Sweets Witch has already been taken out, and I just patrolled yesterday without much sticking out…_

Nevertheless, anticipation seeped into every fiber of her being. It was as if she were a rubber band being stretched to its limit, the tension threatening to send her off the edge and into a very probable oblivion.

 _Liar. Liar. Liar._ Her head was pounding, the word thudding against the inner walls of her skull.

Finally, Homura felt a presence. She skidded to a stop and checked her soul gem. The gem glowed and a beam of light pointed at a forty-five degree angle to her right. Although she already suspected a Witch was to blame, her stomach turned at the confirmation.

To her right gushed the winding river that split Mitakihara City into two parts. Homura recognized this place as the spot that Madoka would often come to think. To the left there were wind turbines, spinning about three times their normal speed.

But Homura didn't have the time or luxury to go sightseeing. She ducked behind the grassy hillside and hoped that she wouldn't be spotted as she transformed. What could only be Madoka's own school bag had been dropped in the grass nearby. This confirmed that she was definitely in trouble.

The stuffed pig Homura had just purchased was then unceremoniously stuffed into her school bag, which she would unfortunately have to leave behind for the time being. She let it sit next to Madoka's. It stood as a reminder of her own foolishness.

Homura then proceeded to allow the transformation process to take hold. Within moments she had left her weakness behind. The bag and stuffed pig inside rested haphazardly against the grass.

Now that she was battle-ready, Homura leapt back down toward the river and approached the first bend. There, a bridge stood, with a limestone finish that had evidently been worn down from decades of use. Underneath the bridge was plenty of scribblings, including many initials encased in hearts.

This sigil of romance barely caught Homura's attention, however, as directly beside it was what could only be the door to a Witch's labyrinth. The words, "I'll sleep when I'm dead!" were carved into its center.

It was the Rocker Witch.

 _You'll be happy to know_ , spoke a sudden voice in her head, _That Madoka is plenty safe. Well, if you call being strung up safe._

Kyubey. Rage filled Homura to the brim and was the breaking point of her supposed rubber band. She launched herself into the Witch's labyrinth at once. Inside must have been the remnants of a concert straight out of a horror story. Musical notes incarnate floated around in the air, in turn making it impossible to hear anything besides the loud racket they incited. Living drums bounced around her, causing her insides to shake with each tremor.

 _Where is she?_ Homura hissed. She jumped over the circling musical instruments and landed on what appeared to be a red carpet. All around, strobe lights were flickering. _Madoka?_

 _Don't bother,_ Kyubey chirped. _I control this power, remember?_

Homura raced down the red carpet with little regard to concealing her own presence. All that mattered now was saving her friend. Within moments, a large screeching noise, resembling that of a child's blood-curdling scream mixed with an electric guitar's resounding strum, completely took over the labyrinth. Homura pressed her hands over her ears and clenched her eyes shut, but the barrier did little to stop the noise.

She stumbled to the side as it finally ended. In its place, the drums from earlier had returned. Before she had the chance to recover, one launched itself at her. The flesh of the drum hit squarely on her shoulder, sending shock waves through the rest of her system. Homura gritted her teeth in an attempt to assemble some stability against the wavering force.

 _I don't have time for this_ , Homura thought. She whipped out a pistol from beneath her shield and started shooting at the aggressive drum sets. The bullets wouldn't penetrate.

 _Not really,_ replied Kyubey. _I've almost won._

Homura's heart stopped at the implication. Was Madoka in so much pain or danger right now that her only option was to become a magical girl? Was her promise to Homura forcing her to suffer?

She spun her shield and initiated a time-stop. Homura charged down the rest of the red carpet, dodging other musical instruments that had been frozen in place. Guitars, trombones, keyboards and more were lying in wait.

Out of breath but finally at the end of the line, Homura knew she had reached the inner sanctum. Kyubey had not been lying after all, as Madoka was definitely being held hostage _on a stage_. The red carpet split at the end into four distinct sections. The two nearest the ground held her feet, and the other two were suspended against the rails in the ceiling to tie up her arms. A microphone floated in front of her, as if she were the singer for this concert. Stadium-like lights were honed in on her face, which was twisted.

Beneath her were a large collection of the very same instruments Homura had been avoiding earlier, clearly resembling an audience. To her right, surrounded by maracas, the Witch stood in full view.

The Rocker Witch was about six times the size of Homura, and shared the most likeness with a wooden puppet. Its face was painted on with make-up and it was wearing a long-haired wig. Its clothes were constructed of black leather and it had a boombox on its shoulder. This was the origin of all the flying musical notes.

Homura threw herself between Madoka and the Rocker Witch, and immediately started pouring shot after shot into the beast. The bullets were suspended in time. Then, Homura reached for Madoka, hoping to untie her binds.

Unfortunately, she couldn't keep time standing still any longer. It resumed, and the sound of clattering bullets resounded—but not as loudly as Madoka's cry, exacerbated by the microphone.

"Madoka!" Homura clammered, "Don't worry, I'm here."

The red carpet seemed to be tightening itself by the minute. It was as if the Witch was garnering some pleasure from ripping her apart little by little.

"Homura won't be able to save you," said Kyubey nonchalantly. He spun his tail, as he sat from the beam above. "Madoka, the only thing that can stop this is if you make a wish and become a magical girl."

"No!" Homura shrieked. She gave up on untying the knots and instead tried to rip apart the threads. This was no good, either.

The Rocker Witch turned a dial on the boombox it held, which turned up the volume heavily. The resulting blast shot Homura off the stage and left Madoka to fend for herself. Inevitably, her cries grew louder. No words passed her lips.

Against her better judgment, Homura stopped time again. She raced over to where the Witch was and attached several bombs to it. She then pulled out an assault rifle and began unloading a full magazine into her adversary.

As time began again, explosions shook the stage and the music abruptly stopped. Homura's first thought was that she had been successful in ending this nightmare. But it was just her luck that this was _not_ the case.

The Rocker Witch pressed a button on the top of the boombox. A different track started up, somehow at an even higher tempo. On the stage, the red carpet pulled tighter yet again. Regardless of how well she could handle this Witch, Homura wasn't sure how much longer Madoka could hold up.

Then, a sudden flash of blue skirted past her. Homura instinctively went to protect Madoka, as the object was headed straight for her, but was launched yet again by the Witch's musical note attack.

Homura was thrown into a pile of amps nearby, which hit her head pretty hard. Despite her own trauma, her focus was solely on whatever was happening to Madoka on the stage.

"Looked like you needed some help, transfer student!" Sayaka said. She had used her blade to cut down Madoka's binds. Madoka fell onto her hands and knees.

"Sayaka! The Witch!" Kyubey called out. The musical notes were redirected from Homura to Sayaka. As a result, if she dodged the attack, that would mean Madoka could get hurt again. For Sayaka, this was not an option. She parried most of the notes with her sword, sending them back at the Witch or into the crowd.

Homura managed to get back onto her feet. All she could see was Madoka.

"Hey, I can't keep this up forever!" Sayaka snapped. "Get her out of here!"

Homura jumped back onto the stage and rushed to be by Madoka's side. Her wrists were very red, and it was very possible that she could have dislocated something. Homura bent down and gently rested a hand against her upper back.

"Madoka, can you hear me?" she asked, urgently.

Meekly, the other girl managed to nod. Homura lifted her right arm and placed it over her own shoulder. She wrapped her left arm around Madoka, preparing to lift her.

"I'm going to get you out of here," Homura said into her ear. She pulled Madoka up onto her feet, but her injured friend was unable to take a step before losing her strength and becoming dead weight. She nearly toppled back onto the floor.

Sayaka was starting to get overwhelmed. The Rocker Witch had placed the boombox onto the floor and started dancing to the rhythm. Each move it pulled off sent a different shockwave hurtling in their direction.

Sayaka dropped down onto the instruments below that littered the concert floor and used them to propel herself toward the Witch. She thrust her sword toward the Witch's core, but the wood that constituted its body easily took the hit. The Witch snickered.

Homura could tell that Madoka was struggling. Her breathing was labored, and even through her clothes her body felt far too hot. It wasn't safe here, but she was in no condition to move. Homura unlooped their arms, instead opting to use her left arm to support her shoulders and her right arm to lift her legs up.

Memories of the previous night flickered by. She had held Madoka like this then, too.

Homura leapt off the stage with Madoka in her arms and landed near the exit of the concert hall. Sayaka was going toe to toe with the Witch, but she was holding her own well enough. Even so, Homura felt compelled to advise her.

"Sayaka Miki!" Homura called. "Destroy the boombox!"

"Got it!" Sayaka responded, bouncing back. She targeted the boombox before the Witch could react, cleanly splitting it in half with her sword. The jarring music finally ceased. As the Rocker Witch wailed, its weak spot was revealed: its voice-box. Sayaka leapt up at once and jabbed her weapon into its throat.

Homura knew that was the fatal blow.

Slowly, the labyrinth around them began to dissipate. The musical instruments, red carpet, and strobe lights faded away, only to be replaced with a Grief Seed.

Finally, they had been returned to Mitakihara City. Homura bent down and set Madoka down, letting her rest her back against the bridge's base. Her ears were still ringing.

"Madoka, are you okay?" Homura got down on one knee in front of her, reaching out for her hands. Madoka recoiled with a wince, but Homura's intense gaze indicated she was making demands, not asking questions. "Let me see your hands."

Madoka relented. "I'm okay," she said, her voice cracking. She let Homura check her wounds. "It just… really… hurts."

Kyubey dropped down from atop the bridge. Although his species lacked any sort of human emotion, he seemed almost amused by all of this.

"No surprise there, Madoka," he claimed. "But if you want the pain to go away, well…"

"Get out of here!" Homura barked, immediately turning a gun on him. Although it wouldn't do any good to shoot him, she knew he detested waste. He tilted his head to the side.

"If you change your mind, Madoka, just call for me!" Seemingly satisfied, the creature turned around and walked off. The lengths at which the incubators would go to secure energy potential was even worse than Homura had initially thought.

Madoka's wrists were only one pace away from bleeding. Her muscles had all definitely been stretched beyond their capabilities, but upon checking her range of motion, it seemed as though she had not dislocated anything. This was very lucky.

"Akemi."

Homura paused her inspection, turning slightly to address Sayaka. She continued, "I know you used up a lot of your powers getting here, and… especially to protect her. You should take this."

Sayaka tossed the once-used Grief Seed her way. "Anyone who cares that much about my best friend, well… They're alright in my book."

The sincerity behind her words surprised Homura. Too often, the rash-natured girl got in her way. But this time… was a different story. She put the Grief Seed into her pocket for later usage.

"Thank you," Homura said. She turned back to Madoka, who was still evidently in some pain. She couldn't go home in this condition.

"Is she going to be alright?" Sayaka asked, bending over to check out some of her wounds for herself. She scowled. "That… doesn't look so good."

"I'll be alright," Madoka replied, bravely shooting a smile her way. It looked like more of a grimace. "I just need to get home and rest, that's all." She made to stand up on her own, but her legs felt like they had gone through a meat grinder. A yelp, then she almost fell over again.

Homura caught her. "No." She reverted back to her normal form, and lifted Madoka up again. Homura turned toward Sayaka. "I have some medicine in my apartment. I'll take care of her."

Sayaka changed out of her magical girl form as well. She clicked her tongue and rolled back on her heels. Any protest she may have mustered died when she saw how at peace Madoka was. Although moments prior she could have been on death's door, she now exuded a sense of security.

Sayaka smiled lightly. "Alright. I'll take care of her folks, then. BUT," she paused, scrambling to pull out a pen and paper from her belongings. She had left hers right next to the labyrinth entrance. She scribbled something down and handed it to Homura. "If anything happens with her, you'd better tell me."

Homura glanced down at the chicken-scratch handwriting on the note; it was her phone number. "Of course. Thank you… Sayaka."

A shared sense of camaraderie blanketed the two of them. For once, Homura had been glad for Sayaka's existence, and could actually see her as a person _not_ directly inhibiting Madoka's survival. The two split up, and Sayaka made her way to Madoka's home. Homura carried Madoka over to where their belongings had been tossed, and recovered them.

It occurred to Homura that she probably shouldn't carry Madoka through town like this. It would call far too much attention to them. Homura readjusted their position so that she was carrying Madoka on her back, piggy-back style. Doing so required terrible, hunched-over posture, but it was the best she could do given the circumstances.

Madoka's arms hung lazily off of Homura's shoulders. If it weren't for how dire the circumstances were, Homura was certain she would be enjoying this. But instead, her mind was only focused on nurturing.

Her and Madoka's bags weighed heavily on her right shoulder. She decided it'd be best if she walked along the river as much as possible, as it would have the smallest amount of foot traffic in the area.

"Homura," Madoka mumbled, her breath hitting the back of Homura's neck. "Why are you helping me? Why… me?"

Homura drew tiny circles into Madoka's thighs with her thumbs, where she was supporting her weight. The afternoon sun reflecting off of the water was breathtaking, but not more so than the girl she now carried. But she did not know how to convey this to her.

"You're special, Madoka." Homura slowed her pace slightly. She couldn't decide whether she should say more or not. She had been through an awful lot today, after all. "You're special, to me."

Madoka leaned more heavily against Homura's back. Her breathing was pretty shallow. "You're too good to me, Homura…"

With that, she seemed to go silent. Homura was about three quarters of the way to her apartment by now. Feeling Madoka's breath hitting her neck was driving her up the wall, even against her better judgment. Although she had been late—she was there for her. She kept her safe. And… Madoka didn't even question Homura's ability to take care of her injuries.

Homura was unsure whether Madoka was simply being quiet, or if she had legitimately passed out. The rest of the walk was going to require a less scenic route, as she needed to get into the city. Thankfully, most students had already made it home by this time, and it was still too early for most adults to have gotten off work yet, so the streets were relatively calm. Anyone who was still around didn't pay them any mind.

Before long, Homura was climbing up the stairs to her apartment. Madoka was still silent, but did take small, regular breaths. Thank goodness.

The magical girl took her straight to her bedroom and set down the bags next to the mattress. She laid Madoka down on her bed. Indeed, she seemed to have passed out.

Homura headed into her bathroom to collect the medical supplies. Rummaging through her storage, she found the following: pain-killers, bandages, antibiotic ointment, and muscle relaxers. This should work. She poured a glass of water as well.

Returning to her bedroom, Madoka was still sleeping. While rest would be vital to her recovery, she needed the medicine first. Homura set down the supplies on the nightstand and pulled up a chair. Seated, she lightly brushed Madoka's hair with her fingers.

Gently, this pulled Madoka out of her sleep. The calm expression twisted into one of pain at once, and she groaned.

"Madoka," Homura quietly began, "I need you to take some medicine."

Madoka opened her eyes and precariously glanced at what Homura had intended for her to take. Four pills.

"You know, I always hated taking pills," Madoka smiled weakly. Besides the joke, she took the medication without any other protests. The muscle relaxers should prevent her muscles from stiffening up too much from the earlier abuse, and the pain-killers should help keep the pain at bay while her body healed.

Her sweater would definitely be in the way, though.

Homura flushed at the prospect. She needed to take off some of her clothing.

"Madoka, your sweater…" she insinuated. Feeling heat rise up within her, Homura took a few steps back until she was in the doorway. She turned around and leaned against the doorframe. Although not opposed to assisting, she did not want to overstep any boundaries given how forward she had been recently.

Madoka hissed at the throbbing pain that coursed through the muscles in her extremities. She could hardly lift her arms, but nonetheless the thought of Homura undressing her would be so embarrassing.

From where she stood, Homura could only hear the sounds of rustling fabric. Coming from her bed. From the girl she loves.

"T-There," Madoka finally said. "Got it."

Homura turned around. Madoka had successfully removed her yellow sweater, and was now clad in her long-sleeved white shirt. Homura tried not to focus on how cute she looked like this, or what color anything else she may be wearing was.

The magical girl sat down next to her friend. She undid the buttons on her sleeves and rolled them up to just below her elbows. As expected, even the flesh above her wrists had been scraped heavily from the carpet. It resembled that of a person's skin that had gotten dragged along a concrete road.

"How badly does this hurt?" Homura asked, lightly tapping the reddened skin. Madoka sharply inhaled, her eyes squeezing shut.

"It's… about a seven out of ten."

Homura unscrewed the cap to the anti-inflammatory ointment. As she squeezed out a generous amount onto her fingertip, she warned, "This may sting."

"Alright," Madoka braced. Homura spread the medicine across her wrists, and any irritated part of her arms that stood out. All the while, Madoka was biting her lip.

The lotion immediately cooled down her aching skin. Although her body still ached all over, it seemed to be getting better. Homura stood up and approached the end of the bed.

"May I?" she requested. Her sturdy hands hovered near her shoes.

"Oh, I'm sorry, that was so rude of me not to even take my shoes off, I'll—"Madoka rushed to sit up, but this caused a jolt of pain to sear through her core. "Ack!"

Homura gently pushed her back down flat on the bed. "Please, relax. I'll take care of it." Again, Homura turned back to Madoka's legs and proceeded to slide her shoes and socks off, one at a time. Her ankles were in a similar state to her wrists, although it appeared as though they were going to bruise more than anything. Still, Homura spread some of the antibacterial ointment across the more irritated patches.

"Is it any better?" Homura asked, a frown tugging at her lips. Her eyes held shadows behind them.

Madoka smiled. "Yes, thank you so much, Homura! I feel better already." A flutter skirted across her chest, but it quickly dissipated. Homura reached for Madoka's hand, gently running her fingers over hers, tracing the joints.

"Madoka…" she started. "I need you to be more careful, okay? What happened today… I couldn't bear it if it happened again."

The injured girl squirmed a bit, her brow furrowing. "I couldn't help it, I was just walking home when I was suddenly… there. I swear I didn't do it on purpose!" Homura wasn't satisfied with this answer. She frowned deeply.

"Even so," she continued, "I want you to come to me, first. Not Sayaka, not Mami, not Kyoko… Me. Okay?"

Madoka nodded silently. Homura reached into Madoka's school bag and retrieved her cell phone. She input her number into the device. "Now, there will be no excuses. If you're ever in trouble and I'm not already there, call me. I'll get there as fast as I can."

Madoka smiled. Her eyes were drooping. The pain-killers had a slight sedative, so it was likely hampering her ability to stay awake.

"Please… don't go," Madoka mumbled. She squeezed Homura's hand.

Homura's heart skipped. In the midst of her incompetent actions nearly killing her dearest friend, there was light. Homura leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. In doing so, she got a quick glimpse... It was pink.

She would not be leaving Madoka's side anytime soon.


	4. An Adorable Nurse

It didn't take very long for Madoka to fall asleep. Although Homura was content to sit beside her and brush her hair, other matters called to her. For instance, Madoka's sweater was precariously hanging off the side of the bed. If it wasn't folded soon, it could leave creases.

Still, Madoka's sleeping face entranced her. The muscles that conveyed expressions of wonderment, confusion and sometimes detestment toward her were now relaxed. Her eyebrows twitched occasionally and her chest raised and dropped with each breath, but besides that Madoka was still.

It had been about an hour since Homura had brought Madoka in and treated her injuries, but time was a fickle mistress. To Homura, she was acutely aware of every second that passed that she had not spent preparing for the impending apocalypse, but on the other hand the moments seemed to be slipping through her fingers. It was like she was trying to grab ahold of water. The more she couldn't hold, the more it threatened to drown her.

Homura tapped her feet on the ground. There was practically a glowing red sign in her peripheral pointing down at the unkempt sweater.

She heaved a sigh and reached over to grab it. It took all of fifteen seconds to smooth it out and fold it properly. Homura stood up and went to place the garment on the nightstand beside the medication. She slid Madoka's socks and shoes underneath the bed.

 _When she wakes up again, I'll re-apply the anti-inflammatory and wrap it up_ , she decided, eyeing the unused bandages. She opted to straighten up the medicine in the order she would use them next.

Following this, Homura quietly started digging into her bag. She was looking for her cell phone, but of course the item on top was the gift she had picked out for Madoka. Homura lifted up the gift bag as silently as she could and stashed it underneath the bed, next to the shoes.

Purchasing the present was straightforward, but the thought of Madoka's reaction to it sent butterflies fluttering around her insides. At the same time, the gift being a tangible reminder of Madoka's near brush with death sent a chill down her spine.

After she was certain it was adequately hidden, Homura continued her search for her phone. Somehow, it had gotten buried beneath her laptop. She grabbed it as well as Madoka's, and went ahead and added Madoka's info into her personal device. It seemed wrong, somehow, to add her number without her explicit consent, but at the same time it eased Homura's mind to have this connection now. It was a necessary move.

As Homura went to put Madoka's phone in her pocket for safe-keeping, her fingers brushed against something coarse.

 _Ah, Sayaka's note._

Homura proceeded to add Sayaka's contact information into her cellular device as well, and sent her the following message:

 _This is Homura Akemi. Madoka Kaname is okay. She's asleep now, but her condition seems to be improving._

Satisfied with that, Homura returned her phone into her pocket as well. Madoka snoozed peacefully next to her, and while that would have been quality entertainment, there was yet one other matter to attend to. The magical girl produced her soul gem and inspected it for impurities. Indeed, the earlier battle had taken its toll on her as well, although not nearly as much as Madoka had endured. Her recklessness in getting to Madoka had forced her to call on more of her power than she otherwise would have. Shadows swirled around the crystal's interior.

Homura used the resultant Grief Seed to purify her addled soul gem. The darkness was swiftly engulfed, and the room was filled with a bright purple light. The Grief Seed would likely be good for one more use, and then she would have to give it to that _demon spawn_.

Homura's phone buzzed. She put away both the soul gem and the Grief Seed and retrieved it. The screen lit up, revealing Sayaka's response:

 _Awesome. Her family was a bit peeved, but I took care of it. She has to come home tomorrow for sure, though!_

Homura grimaced. There was no way those grievous wounds would heal overnight on their own. She further assessed Madoka's current condition to confirm her suspicions. It had been approximately two hours since the incident, and Madoka was sporting swollen, bruised ankles, reddened wrists, and of course the likely inability to walk just yet. This was just scraping the surface on what was visible, too. Regardless, it wasn't as if Homura could keep Madoka here until she finished healing—the way this was shaping up, it could take weeks.

Thus, there was only one possible solution.

If it weren't for how badly Madoka affected her sensibilities, it would occur to her that doing this was probably not a good idea. For anyone else, it would be an absolutely terrible idea, and Homura would never consider it.

Again, she summoned forth her soul gem. The vibrant lilac color filled the room, not unlike that of a night light's glow. This would be unfamiliar territory for Homura, and she was not quite certain it would work. After all, her magic did not boast healing powers the same way Sayaka's did. At most, she had expedited the process of scarring over her own tissue after some scrapes in battle. Even then, it was rarely necessary for her to use healing magic as her ability lended itself for dodging most attacks.

Thus, she would have to be careful for both of their sakes. Make a reckless mistake, and Madoka could suffer; overextend her capabilities and she'd run the risk of running out of magic. Neither outcome would be acceptable.

Homura took a deep breath, attempting to still her creaking heart. She slowly traced her fingertips over Madoka's body, affixing a mental map of how she existed now and how she should be. The major muscle groups' locations, density, and geography relative to her other organs and body parts needed to be clear in her mind's eye. The length of her extremities seemed a bit off, likely from the hyperextension. Adjusting this particular facet would require a high level of focus and skill.

Tracing her fingers back to Madoka's shoulder, Homura hesitated. She had gotten a very clear idea of her friend's auxiliary anatomy. To do this effectively and with the least amount of risk required her to investigate further, however. Madoka's warm breaths grazed against Homura's hand.

It took her a solid minute to finally coax her hand into proceeding, but just the hint of Madoka having a collarbone was too much stimulation. Homura squeezed her eyes shut and chose to skip over her upper body in favor of checking her abdominal region. Further attempts to calm her heart went unheeded at this point.

Of Madoka's injuries, the stress on her core was the most minimal. The muscles had been stretched, but it would likely only cause some soreness or stiffness while healing naturally.

Homura retracted her hand and opened her eyes. She wasn't sure whether her palms were sweating from any sort of intimacy she had contrived in the situation or from her guilt in doing so. Madoka was markedly unaware of any disturbance. Either she was a deep sleeper or the medication was incredibly effective. Homura knew from previous lives' experiences of knocking on her window at night that the former was untrue.

Finally, Homura regained her poker face. Her heart beat at regular intervals and her breathing was slow and methodical. She closed her eyes and recalled the mental image she had meticulously carved out of her dear friend. Her clammy right hand enclosed her soul gem, with which she now slowly reached forward with.

The magical girl focused solely on Madoka's body. Her desire to see Madoka get better motivated her to do so with painstakingly thorough details.

Increasing muscle density and blood flow, connecting snapped ligaments, and correcting the length of her limbs were paramount in Madoka's recovery. To a secondary degree, Homura tended to the friction burns that afflicted her skin and the scuffs on her arms and legs.

Sweat beaded on Homura's forehead. She wasn't using her magic efficiently since she was out of practice. Although it was common for her thoughts to be centered around the captivating girl that laid before her, it was incredibly taxing on Homura to perform healing magic that likely should be relegated only to those with a mastery in the art. Despite her clumsy workings, she was determined to see it through.

After what seemed to have been an eternity, Homura sensed she had hit her limit. If she continued much more, her magic could easily be wiped out. She ceased her work and leaned over the bed for support, struggling to breathe after so much exertion. Her soul gem was still functioning, but it appeared much darker than it had been earlier.

More importantly, Homura inspected Madoka's vital signs. She gently rested her head over Madoka's chest and listened intently. She heard a heartbeat and felt some resistance, indicating she was taking breaths. Her temperature seemed to have declined as well. The next object of concern were her hands and ankles. Evidently, Homura had done well enough in her ministrations as the skin appeared flawless in those areas.

Relief washed over the magical girl as it finally occurred to her that Madoka would be just fine. She used the Grief Seed once more, depleting its usefulness. Although it didn't clear up her soul gem completely, it had removed most of the pollutants. Instantly, Homura felt much better.

 _Incubator_ , she called out. She walked over toward the attached balcony that overlooked the city. If not disposed of properly, the Grief Seed would almost certainly hatch into a witch. The sky had darkened considerably by this time, with the moon and stars shyly materializing in the dusk leftover by the recent sunset. Within a span of a couple of minutes, Kyubey had leapt down onto the railing in front of her.

"You went through that one fast," Kyubey remarked as Homura tossed the Grief Seed at him. The red ring on his back opened up to swallow it. "I'm not sure it's wise of you to do that."

Homura frowned at the creature whose poker face surpassed even her own.

"I'm not interested in your advice," she said plainly. Homura turned away, intending to enter her abode.

"Suit yourself, Homura Akemi," he chirped back. "I'll see you and Madoka Kaname again soon." Kyubey turned away as well, hopping off the balcony and proceeding to make his way back down to the ground. Interacting with the incubator couldn't be helped, but it always left a sour taste in Homura's mouth. Unlike the candy from last night, however, this was unpleasant.

Inside, Madoka's sleep had hardly been disturbed. She had slightly adjusted her position in the moments Homura had been away, so that her face was turned to the side and her hands were resting on her stomach. The dim light from outside filled the room, casting a magnificent glow on Madoka's cheek.

Homura approached the bed from her balcony. She hesitated at its edge. Every part of her wanted to be in that bed with her, contributing to the warmth she no doubt was emitting into the sheets. She wanted to hold Madoka close and let her sleep on her chest, not her pillow.

The mental image gave Homura goosebumps. She had never been that close with Madoka, not even once in all the times she had spent reliving this month. A knot caught in her throat. Although she wanted it more than anything, she couldn't bring herself to act selfishly when her friend was vulnerable.

She dragged herself over to the chair on the other side of the bed, a ball and chain holding her back. She contented herself with the knowledge that not only did Madoka feel safe with her, but that she legitimately was. Soon, she too found herself drifting off.

* * *

Madoka groaned. There was a great deal of tension coiling underneath her skin all over her body. She blearily opened her eyes, glancing around her somewhat unfamiliar surroundings. The first thing she noticed was that it was night-time, as moonlight poured into the room and splayed out over the bedsheets. The waxing moon and the stars that surrounded it reminded Madoka of the sleepless nights she had spent wondering what her purpose on this earth was.

Surprisingly, Madoka was able to sit up relatively easily. Her abdomen was incredibly sore, almost as if she had been ordered to complete two hundred sit-ups. Her arms and legs were no worse for the wear, though. In fact, Madoka flexed her fingers, they were practically good as new.

 _Did I really get trapped in a witch's labyrinth?_ Madoka stared down into her palms, now devoid of any evidence of trauma. There were no friction burns, bruises or irritated patches anywhere she could see given the limited lighting. Madoka brought her hands up to her eyes and squeezed them shut. Her memories of the day were blurry and mismatched.

Finally, Madoka wondered, _Where am I?_

The bedding she resided on smelled strongly of lavender and a season's first snowfall. Although distinctly familiar, being encapsulated in this scent was incredibly relaxing and eased Madoka's worries.

She followed the streak of moonlight across the bed with her eyes and noticed a presence. Someone was in here with her.

When Madoka finally worked up the nerve to confront whoever it was that had taken her captive, it wasn't some malicious older man, but rather someone her age. Madoka scooted closer to try to get a better look, but the lighting in that side of the room was lacking, and her eyes had not yet adjusted well enough to perceive the person's identity. It was clear that they were sleeping, at least.

Despite her worked muscles' protests, Madoka leaned over closer to get a better look. Could it be…?

"Homura?"

At once, the chair squeaked backwards and the other girl had her back against the wall. Madoka's eyesight was improving now, and it was quite obvious that her initial inclination had been correct. Homura's palms were pressed into the plaster behind her, revealing the telling diamond imprint on her fingernail.

"I'm sorry I startled you!" she amended, smiling sheepishly. It seemed uncharacteristic of Homura to be so skittish, but it actually made her a lot more relatable in Madoka's eyes. A couple of seconds passed before Homura had gathered her bearings again. She approached Madoka and bent down so that they were level. Madoka was sitting on the edge of the bed with her feet dangling near the floor.

"How do you feel now?" Homura asked, placing her hands on either side of Madoka. Her eyes trailed away from her face, downward.

"I feel great," Madoka replied modestly. She tilted her head to one side, a slight blush creeping up from how intently Homura stared. "What exactly… happened? Everything's a bit blurry after I left school."

Homura gingerly lifted her friend's hands, tapping them with her index finger. She watched Madoka's expression. As she did so, she replied, "You were pulled into a witch's ward, and called Sayaka Miki for help. I…"

She hesitated, drawing a circle in Madoka's palm. "I happened to be nearby, so we both found you and destroyed the witch. Does this hurt?" Homura tenderly squeezed her friend's ankle.

"No," Madoka responded earnestly. She clasped her hands together now that they had finished being inspected. "How did I end up here?"

"You were in no condition to return home, so I agreed to treat you. Sayaka Miki made sure your family wouldn't worry." Homura released Madoka's legs and proceeded to poke the other girl's stomach region. It was firm to the touch. Immediately in response, Madoka winced and pulled away.

Homura frowned, retracting her hand. "Is it painful?"

Madoka inspected it for herself. Movement and direct contact caused the muscles in her core to contract, sending shockwaves of needle-point pricks within four centimeters of the affected flesh.

"It's more like…" Madoka considered. "It's _really_ sore."

This was an honest (only slightly fudged!) assessment, Madoka thought. Although her memory of the earlier incident was foggy, if she remembered any detail it was the great extent Homura had gone to save her. Worrying her would likely only aggravate the situation. And besides, Madoka figured, she didn't want to be any more of a burden than she already had.

Homura stood, glancing briefly at the alarm clock on her desk. Surprisingly, it was only 8:47 PM. Madoka watched as her friend silently retreated from the room and returned with a towel and a set of pajamas. She placed them lightly on Madoka's lap.

"Here. Perhaps a bath will make you feel better." Homura stepped to the side and offered her hand.

Madoka pushed herself off the bed and landed heavily on her bare feet. After an initial wobble that Homura helped stabilize, Madoka was able to walk. She turned to her friend and smiled, holding the clothes to her chest. "Thank you, Homura!"

The moonlight licked at Homura's face. Noticing a slight change of color there, Madoka also blushed. Homura led Madoka to where her bathroom was located, making sure to go a bit slower and ensuring to always be within arm's reach in the event another wobble-event occured. Thankfully, this was not the case.

Within moments, they had reached their destination. The hardwood-esque floors were cold on Madoka's feet, but the promise of a nice warm bath called to her. Homura waited by the door frame, unsure of what she should do next. Her usual aloof self was at war with a more demure and lonely side that Madoka wasn't used to seeing. It was evident that Homura struggled to define how she should present herself in any given situation.

Her sad, conflicted eyes called Madoka's attention more than the bathtub did. She impulsively leapt toward Homura and gave her a bear hug. Her heartbeat quickened considerably, and her face felt hot.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Madoka said. When Homura returned the hug, Madoka wasn't sure she'd be able to walk long enough to make it to the bathtub. It was incredibly warm, like a velvet blanket fresh from a drying machine being wrapped over her, and the scent of lavender grew even stronger. It called forth a memory from earlier that day, where she had been assaulted by that beautiful smell…

"Madoka," Homura said, pulling her friend out of her reverie. She pulled away from the embrace as well, but now her face was glowing. "You should take it easy; I won't be going anywhere."

Madoka smiled brightly and stepped into the bathroom. "I know," she said simply and with conviction. Then, more practically, she said, "I'll be out in a few minutes, okay?"

Homura nodded, stepping back from the doorway and walking away. Madoka closed the door and sighed. She had hardly had a moment to herself in the past two days, much less any time to really think about any recent or major developments. Peering at herself in the mirror, Madoka was surprised to see just how normal she appeared. The only evidence that remained of her time in a witch's labyrinth on her own was the soreness that radiated from her center. Otherwise, her skin was blemish free.

Madoka tugged the red ribbons out of her hair and placed them on the sink. She was careful not to aggravate her injury while undressing, although for the most part it was unnecessary. It was easy to remove the white button-up shirt she always wore beneath her school uniform, as it was rather roomy for her.

Even beneath her clothing her body looked decent and there were no signs of abuse. Fittingly, Homura had given her a fluffy pink towel to use.

Madoka stepped closer towards the bathtub and began drawing water. It was relatively small, but it suited the one bedroom apartment well. In fact, it was quite luxurious in this neighborhood to even have a bathtub outside of the larger single-family homes in the suburbs, like Madoka's home. Interestingly enough, Madoka remembered seeing Mami's apartment also having a bathtub located in her flat.

At first, the water spurted out of the faucet with deadly precision and scorching heat. She had to adjust it about forty-five degrees back to the right in order to get it into a more manageable temperature. Bending over to set up the bath was a stark reminder of her abdominal muscles' pain.

The discomfort worsened as Madoka had to reach in further to insert a plug into the drain. She gritted her teeth.

Finally, she was successful. The bath was now drawing reasonably hot water and it was rising quickly. Madoka stepped inside and slowly slid down into a seated position. Straight away, the pain eased out of her consciousness. The water had covered up to her navel and seemed to be chipping away at her fatigue. When nearly her entire body was submerged, Madoka shut off the faucet.

Her mind began drifting back to the familiarity of her hug with Homura. Had she done something similar earlier today? Madoka wracked her brain for the answer to her _deja vu_ predicament.

 _You're special to me_ , someone said, somewhere in her head. Madoka sunk down into the bath and let her head fully descend into the water. The feeling of being weightless was also vaguely familiar, as if she had been carried away by a strong current before.

The image of a sudden, unheeded kiss fluttered past her mind's eye. Madoka sat up quickly and nearly choked on some water in the process. She coughed heavily. Upon recovering, she buried her head in her knees, but to hide from what, she was uncertain.

 _That was my first kiss_ , Madoka thought, chewing on her lip. It certainly hadn't been what she was expecting at all, but that wasn't what had made her anxious. What scared her was the fact that despite never having thought of Homura in that way in the past—at least, not beyond a thought or two about how pretty and cool she was—it seemed like that kiss was a long time coming. Which made no sense, because they had only known each other for a short while.

Even so, she couldn't deny the nervous butterflies that now graced her previously aching stomach. She wasn't sure how she felt, but she was sure that it was a good feeling at least. She didn't despise Homura; in fact, it was quite the opposite. She wanted to spend more time with her.

Madoka grabbed the shampoo bottle and read the label. _Lavender & Agave Moisturizing Shampoo_, it read. _For adding volume and shine to your hair._

From Madoka's experience, the brand was relatively popular and well-received by customers. The shampoo explained two things: How Homura's hair looked _so darn good all the time_ , but also the enticing fragrances that had been tickling her nose as of late. Madoka flicked the cap open and got a strong dose of that smell.

She squeezed out about a penny's worth of shampoo and lathered it into her own hair. Maybe if she was lucky, her hair would look halfway as good as Homura's did.

The similarly labeled conditioner bottle was easy enough to use as well. Its smell wasn't quite as strong as the shampoo's, but it was pleasant nonetheless. Rinsing and washing her hair didn't take too long, and by the time she finished doing so her scalp felt like it had just gotten the spa treatment.

Madoka lifted a handful of water from the bath and let it course down her head and back, removing the remaining suds. Thinking about Homura's hair had evoked more of her memory of the day's events; she had definitely been really close with Homura today.

Then, it hit her—the weightless, floaty feeling that had been so familiar earlier was because Homura had carried her here. Realizing this, she remembered further the strong feeling of her stomach dropping as if she were riding a rollercoaster; perhaps this was during their escape of the witch's ward.

Still though, Madoka couldn't recall how she had been carried or if she had been a nuisance in doing so. The thought made her chest feel heavy.

 _Did she give me a piggy-back ride? Bridal style? Over her shoulder? Oh please_ _tell me that my skirt was okay…_

Even the slight possibility of such an embarrassing scene sent shivers up Madoka's spine. To rid herself of this icky feeling, she started scrubbing herself with body wash. It was largely ineffective.

Although she wasn't sure of how she felt about Homura or necessarily how to respond yet, she knew she wanted to keep exploring this feeling. Did this make her a deviant or a bad friend? Madoka's stomach dropped as she considered the ethical nature of what she wanted. She knew her answer.

* * *

Meanwhile, Homura paced back and forth in her bedroom. At this time, she had already changed into her own night-time attire and decided she'd take a bath in the morning. She had thoroughly enjoyed the hug Madoka had so graciously surprised her with, but unfortunately it had led to the execution of a while-loop in her brain, where the condition was Madoka showing her any sort of affection. Similar to a computer program, it was causing her mind to go in circles and inevitably freeze up.

On the one hand, it had been incredible to share that moment with her. On the other, Homura was quite certain that she didn't deserve it. It was a cycle of desire and disdain, somewhat similar to what those who vow to abstain from their vices would experience. For example, swearing off of caramel sweets in the hopes to acquire better health would lead to the individual craving the candy, and in retaliation loathing their lack of self-control and perhaps flagrant imagination. In Homura's case, Madoka was the caramel sweet.

In this sense, Homura felt sick. Madoka had been in dire trouble today due in part to her own negligence, and yet in spite of this Homura's heart soared. Her conflicting mindset revolved around her strong sense of duty having it out with her long-repressed desire.

Homura stopped pacing. "I don't have time for this," she mumbled quietly, opting to phase out the internal debate within for more pressing matters. She silenced the voices in her head that had persisted in the shadow of her insecurity.

Homura exited her bedroom and made her way to the kitchen. Although it was late, she knew Madoka would be hungry. She scrutinized the contents of her kitchen cupboards and decided that given she'd only have about fifteen minutes to prepare a meal it would have to be light and easy. She had purchased some Castella sponge cake slices at the market the other day in preparation for Madoka staying over for a sleepover that had been left untouched. The memory of the large array of snacks Madoka had brought with her the previous night made Homura chuckle.

She removed two slices from the packaging and got it set up on a plate. Since they were relatively small pieces, silverware wouldn't be necessary. To go with it, Homura put on a kettle to prepare some tea.

As the water heated up, Homura considered how the rest of the evening would play out. She would insist that Madoka laid down to rest, but that didn't necessarily entail going to sleep right away.

 _Should I… give her the pig?_ Homura thought. Absentmindedly, she wondered how silly she might look holding the pink stuffed animal, and how that portrayal differed so adamantly from the persona she had worked so hard to create and maintain. Even so, the potential benefit of doing so and bearing witness to Madoka's grace outweighed any residual embarrassment that lingered. Besides, Homura figured, she had already purchased the toy. It wasn't like she was going to disappoint the kind old man she purchased the pig from by returning it.

Just as the kettle started whistling, Homura overheard the sound of a nearby door opening and closing. A slight twinge of annoyance tapped at Homura, as she wasn't sure whether or not Madoka was truly capable of walking on her own already and would have preferred to check first. Madoka had never been good at lying; in fact, she was particularly bad at it. Homura easily figured out from her raised inflection and stiff smile earlier that Madoka had been trying to hide the extent of her injury for her sake. While it was a sweet sentiment, it irritated her that she hadn't mastered her magic well enough to heal Madoka fully and prevent the lie from occuring in the first place.

Homura clicked her tongue as she poured the hot water into the two mugs. She steeped the tea with herbal leaves. Light footsteps approached behind her.

"What're you doing, Homura?" said Madoka as she glanced over the other girl's shoulder at the kitchen counter. Homura finished preparing the tea and disposed of the used leaves. She handed the plate of Castella sponge cake to Madoka.

"Here. It's not much, but you should eat," Homura replied. Castella sponge cakes happened to be one of Homura's favorite snack food items as they tended to be very minimal; light on the stomach, simple taste, and easy to find. Homura lifted the mug she had prepared for Madoka, holding it until her friend had the chance to drink some.

As Madoka smiled thankfully and took a bite out of the first slice, her reaction was holistically underwhelming. Her eyes didn't glint the way they did when she ate sour candy and she took care to fully chew before swallowing.

"I'm sorry if it's plain," Homura frowned. "You don't have to eat it if you don't like it."

Madoka shook her head. "No, it's not like that. It's pretty good!" Proving her point, she ate the rest of the slice in one go. She sipped some of the herbal tea. At the same time, Homura drank some tea as well. While Madoka finished eating the snack, Homura's eyes wandered.

Madoka's hair was still damp from the bath, stray strands sticking to her neck. The clothing Homura had picked out for her was an older set of pajamas that didn't quite fit her right anymore, but seemed to complement Madoka's figure well. The sleek black pajamas were framed with a white border along the edges, with the top being a button-up long-sleeve with a collar. The color contrast between the clothing and Madoka's hair and bright eyes was defining.

By the time the duo had finished their evening tea, the clock was a little past 9:45 PM. Homura quickly began washing the three dishes that had accumulated.

"Homura," Madoka started, fidgeting slightly. When Homura turned her gaze on her, she avoided eye contact. "This… um… is really difficult for me to say in words, but I want to be honest with you."

Homura squinted. She scrubbed the plate diligently and with more force than was necessary.

"So…" Madoka trailed off, gripping onto her sleeve. Disappointment laced her words. "Even though I—um—really enjoy spending time with you, I don't think it's really fair of me to take advantage of you like this."

Dishes crashed into the sink with a loud clang. Madoka winced. Homura leaned over the sink, her hands dripping.

Frazzled, Madoka continued, "I just don't think I could call myself a good friend if I let you go to so much trouble just for me. Especially not…" She looked away, a blush rising to her cheeks. "In such a… special way."

Homura grabbed Madoka's hand and tugged her away from the kitchen. Her hands were still damp, but her grip was strong. Wordlessly, she guided Madoka back into her bedroom.

"Sit," Homura said finally. Her voice left no room for negotiation, and when Madoka finally made eye contact they were steel. Madoka sat down on the edge of the bed, peering up at the taller girl who made no move to reconcile the distance. She folded her arms.

"Madoka," she began, tapping a foot. "There never has been a time where you have caused me trouble and there never will be. I do these things because I've made my own choices, and whether or not you agree with my actions won't change my mind."

Homura's expression grew soft. She continued, "I regret putting you in a position where you felt guilty. I don't expect you to understand, or even to reciprocate—"Homura trailed, realizing she may be revealing too much. "But… I can't just leave you alone."

Homura leaned down and reached under the bed. Madoka watched silently as she produced a white, slightly disheveled gift bag from underneath. She gently placed it on her lap. "You have your own choices to make."

As Madoka peered down at the present, Homura swallowed thickly. She had been incredibly straightforward just now, but she hoped that the gift might convey her feelings more candidly.

Madoka removed the pink tissue paper and set it to the side. Her face lit up with joy as she saw what was inside. She lifted the pink pig up as if it were a kitten, her thumbs hoisted beneath its armpits.

"Homura!" she cried. "Did you…?"

Madoka's eyes searched Homura's. Between what she found in Homura's words, the gift bag, or in her eyes, something clicked. Homura was being entirely genuine in how she felt and wasn't going to apologize for it. Was she trying to say that she shouldn't either? Madoka leapt up and threw her arms around Homura.

"I love it," Madoka said. She shyly pulled back from the embrace she had initiated. "Are you really sure that this is okay?"

Homura leaned forward and lightly pecked her on the lips. Madoka covered her lips with her hand, heat evidently following.

"You tell me, is this okay?" Homura responded, somewhere between serious and teasing.

"That's not fair," she mumbled. Her eyes trailed off to the side. "But… I think so."

Homura smiled, reveling in just how well she had settled the issue mixed with the adorable reaction she had just witnessed. It was only a band-aid of a fix, though. But for the time being, with only ten days left until Walpurgisnacht arrived, Homura was content with that.

"I'm glad," Homura replied fondly. She stepped back and headed toward the door. "Do you need anything?"

Madoka hesitated, clutching the stuffed pig to her chest. "Would it be too much to ask… if you'd stay here with me?"

Both girls blushed at the implication presented. Homura gripped the door frame firmly, her breath hitching. This was precisely what she had been wishing for when Madoka was resting earlier. Somewhere deep within, however, she knew she shouldn't. Especially not when Madoka had just expressed uneasiness.

But she couldn't say no to those eyes.

Homura relented, turning off the light and approaching the center. She sat on the chair next to her bed, crossing her legs. "I'll stay."

Madoka huffed. "That can't be comfortable." She reached for Homura's hand and tugged at it. "Come on."

Still, Homura resisted. "What about your injuries?" she asked. Madoka shook her head. Even in the darkness, Homura could see her smile.

"The bath and medicine really helped. I can hardly tell."

Despite all her sensibilities, Homura felt compelled to do as Madoka requested. It was as if there was an industrial magnet in her bed and she was composed entirely of sheet metal. She set aside her trepidation and crawled into the other side of the bed.

It was a full-sized bed, so there wasn't a lot of room to accommodate two people. Thankfully, they were both pretty small. Homura turned over on her side, facing away from Madoka. She had laid herself down with as much space between the two of them as she could, lest she overstep any boundaries.

Besides, Homura thought, it was entirely possible that Madoka was still shaken from the witch encounter earlier in the day and wanted an extra layer of security in order to sleep well. Madoka curled herself under the blanket and hugged the stuffed pig.

"Thank you, Homura," Madoka said quietly. "For everything."

As Madoka drifted off to sleep, Homura wasn't sure she'd ever be able to do the same. The mere centimeters apart meant that while she couldn't make direct contact, Madoka's presence was very obvious. Warmth emanated from her like a hot water bottle.

Homura squeezed her eyes shut. _I must not think bad thoughts. I must not think bad thoughts._

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **I typically don't leave comments after my work, but I just wanted to thank everyone for reading the story up to this point and for all the positivity. Going into this story, I wasn't sure how many people would be interested, but I am incredibly thankful for all the support I've received so far. As of now, my goal is to write up to and including Walpurgisnacht, and potentially a bit after. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and will stick around for the next. Thank you!**


	5. Scheming Plans

"So, why exactly should I bother helpin' you?" Kyoko said, rolling a Pocky stick to the other side of her mouth. Her eyes were glued to the arcade machine she had been keen on getting the high score on. It was a Western style racing game, wrought with unlockable cars and secret tracks. The current high score was held by someone who went by "USUCK," which apparently Kyoko had taken as a personal challenge.

"Well, for starters it's not like you're even _doing_ anything," Sayaka huffed. She glared at the screen as Kyoko made a hard right turn on the wheel, narrowly missing a guardrail in-game.

"Now, hold on!" Kyoko started. "This happens to be how I spend my free time, thank you very much."

The game over screen flashed as she crossed the finish line. Inevitably, the high score board appeared, highlighting the "2nd Place" entry. There was a long stream of "KYO" entries filling down the rest of the screen. Kyoko stomped and gritted her teeth.

"Damn it!" she muttered.

Sayaka turned around. "Fine," she said, a venomous tone dripping, "It's not like I need your help anyways. I can do it myself."

Kyoko stood from the arcade machine and stretched. She had just finished the Pocky stick she had been eating. "There's no need to get all huffy, okay chick? It makes perfect sense why you'd need a professional magical girl _such as myself_ to get the job done right. Newbies always screw it up."

"I'm leaving," Sayaka said flatly as she indeed began walking away. Kyoko grinned as she walked next to her.

"You're hopeless, you know that?" Sayaka said, a hint of amusement mixed with annoyance. She led the way out of the arcade and back onto the street.

"Yeah, so what?" Kyoko responded. Her playfulness gave way to a more serious demeanor. "Are you gonna give me the rundown on what exactly you expect me to do?"

The sidewalks and roads by this time were relatively empty, save for a few students that had just finished up their after-school activities. Anyone that happened to be nearby was wearing headphones, presumably listening to music or an audio book.

Thus, with a quiet voice, Sayaka answered, "Madoka got in trouble with a witch today. We've got to smooth things over with her parents or else she'll be in even bigger trouble."

Kyoko laughed boisterously at the prospect. The idea of a parent's scorn being a worse fate than meeting one's maker at the hands of a witch was too rich. She imagined what the soft-spoken girl's folks might look like: two looming, dark figures with flashing red eyes. Perhaps they were a part of the Japanese Mafia?

"This isn't funny!" Sayaka said, her eyes glinting. "Seriously, her mom will go _ballistic_ if she doesn't know where she's at."

So, Kyoko thought, there may be truth in her wild imaginings. Still, the idea that such a quiet little girl could come from such a harsh background amused her. She sobered. "So let me get this straight. Your friend Madoka got hurt in a labyrinth. She's out of the picture for a few days. You want me to somehow cover for her?"

Sayaka considered as they crossed the street. "Yeah, that about sums it up."

Kyoko sighed. This would be a bother for sure. "Alright, alright, I'll give you a hand. BUT you've got to pay me back for it. I don't like it when people take advantage of my kindness," she warned. "I don't do charity work, so there's gotta be something in it for me."

Sayaka bit her tongue so as not to say anything she might regret later. Although the other girl intrigued her, her morals left a lot to be desired in Sayaka's book. And while that really bugged her, her presence in Mitakihara City now was quite convenient. She stilled the qualms that swirled within. They were getting close.

"Okay? Is it a deal, then?" Kyoko pressed. She offered a Pocky stick as a tangible offering to the agreement.

Sayaka accepted the snack, spinning it with her thumb and forefinger. "You've got a deal."

By this time, the two magical girls were starting to near the Kaname family home. Sayaka pulled Kyoko to the side, pointing a finger at the residence. "That's it there. You sure you can do this?"

Kyoko's smirk stretched across her face. "Of course! I just need some information first." She pulled out her soul gem, which radiated a passionate fire red. "Tell me what the family is like and then give me a mark."

Sayaka paused. "A mark?"

Kyoko glanced up at Sayaka. The perplexed expression on the latter's face was pretty funny from her perspective. "Yes. Someone I should mimic."

"Oh," Sayaka said slowly. She dropped a fist into the palm of her other hand, an idea forming. She began, "First of all, her dad and little brother are probably the only ones in there right now. The boy's name is Tatsuya and the dad's name is Tomohisa. The mom probably won't be in there because she works late, but her name is Junko. It should be easy to convince her dad, who should be able to pass along the message to her mom."

Sayaka fished her cell phone out of her pocket and pulled up an old photograph from their last school trip. The class had all gone on an extensive, luxurious, all-expenses-paid-trip of all of two miles down the street to the city zoo. Sayaka remembered the sarcastic attitude she had during the trip, as her idea of going to a dignified orchestra was shot down instead.

She pointed a finger at the lead chaperone in the picture. "This is our teacher, Kazuko Saotome. She is over thirty and unhappy about it. Also, she's friends with Madoka's mom and pretty good with kids, but aggressive when it comes to her age and love life."

Kyoko stared at the photograph for a few more seconds, ingraining the appearance of the older woman in her head. She frowned, "I can see why she's worried about her age."

Sayaka put her phone back into her pocket. "Can you do it?"

"The better question is," Kyoko began playfully, turning to Sayaka with a smile and shoving her hands in her pockets, "What will you do for me after?"

Heat rose to Sayaka's cheeks unheeded. Kyoko turned toward the house and looked down at her soul gem. She continued, "I'll be back in a minute."

Kyoko walked over toward the Kaname home and got a better look at it. The exterior was a stark white and it had many windows. On the side, there appeared to be a well-kept garden, and the lawn was well-maintained. For Kyoko, these were all signs of a happy home with a good family.

 _This is too rich for my blood_ , Kyoko thought. Outside the door, she began to focus on her magic. While Sayaka's inherent ability enabled her to heal faster, hers was the power of illusion. It permitted her to swindle storekeepers, gather information covertly and to craft lies to cover up her trail. Although she had nearly lost the ability with the fall-out of her wish, she had since recovered it due to a radical change in her philosophy. That is, that magic was inherently selfish and should only be used for one's own needs. Once she had accepted that fact, she was able to accept the consequences of her wish, and this allowed her to persevere.

She focused on the woman she would be pretending to be, adding inches to her height and thickening her frame slightly. Glasses materialized, and her outfit resembled something Kyoko's grandmother might've worn had she ever met her.

"Testing," Kyoko said. "Hello, this is Kazuko." The voice seemed like a match for the identity. She would make short work of this, and then have Sayaka at her beck and call.

Kyoko knocked at the door. She distantly heard a masculine voice say, "Be right there!" She began thinking about what her lie might be.

Less than a minute later, the front door was cracked open. What must have been Madoka's father peered out at her, then opened the door all the way with a warm smile. "Kazuko! Come in, come in. What brings you around these parts?"

Kyoko walked in, immediately amazed by all the neat gadgets they had inside. It took all of her willpower not to laugh at the sight of this older man wearing an apron. The smell of cooking meat enticed her.

"Oh, I won't be able to stay long," she said. "But there is a matter I wanted to discuss with you."

Tatsuya peeked out from behind the couch to identify who it was that had just entered his home. Upon recognizing her, he ran up to her and jumped up and down. "Auntie, auntie!" he cried.

He wasn't much younger than Momo was before she passed. Kyoko lifted up the little boy and held him. It filled her heart with both grief and happiness. She envied Madoka for having this.

"Oh? What's that?" Tomohisa said with a smile.

"I'm afraid that Madoka might not have let you know ahead of time, but she's competing on behalf of the school in the English language proficiency exams in Tokyo. As I was looking over the permission slips it occurred to me that it wasn't Junko's signature on the form."

Tatsuya reached for Kyoko's glasses but his little arms couldn't reach. Tomohisa frowned heavily. "That's really unlike her... I'll just put dinner away and then Tatsuya and I can go pick her up. Thank you for letting me know."

A twinge of panic budded in Kyoko's chest. She remedied, "Oh, that won't be necessary! Kids will be kids, you know? It may just be that she was afraid of letting you and Junko down by not winning the competition. She will be back sometime this week depending on how well she does. Besides, it would be unfortunate for the school if she were taken out in the final stages."

Tomohisa didn't seem convinced yet. Kyoko continued, "I'm really sorry that this misunderstanding happened. Rest assured that she is being well taken care of with Ms. Kawashima and the other teachers. Please let Junko know."

This seemed to placate him. He sighed. "That crazy girl. Okay, Kazuko, we'll wait for her here then. I wish she would have told us, though. Tatsuya and I could've been there to cheer her on."

Kyoko handed over the little boy to his father. She smiled apologetically. "I'm sure she wants to make you both proud. Go easy on her, okay?"

Kyoko then waved at Tatsuya who reached for her again. She backed up to leave. "I really must be going now. I've got a date tonight, so wish me luck!"

Tomohisa laughed and waved back at her. "Good luck!" he said, closing the door behind her. Kyoko headed back around the corner where Sayaka was hiding, taking care that her magic hadn't faded yet. When she was certain she was out of sight, she dropped the act.

Sayaka was chewing on the Pocky stick Kyoko had given her only a few minutes earlier. She sized her up. "How did it go?"

Kyoko scoffed and dramatically raised a hand as if she had been struck. "Oh, it was so horrible! The war should've taken me with it, all the poor young soldiers that lost their lives; their blood is on my hands! I can't believe the government would allow—"

"Har-har," Sayaka interrupted, clearly not impressed. She rolled her eyes. Kyoko laughed, slapping the other girl on the shoulder.

"Lighten up! Of course I took care of it; her dad had no idea. I told him that Madoka was competing in some English competition in Tokyo and wouldn't be home for a while. Pretty good, right?"

Sayaka swallowed the last remnants of the Pocky stick. "I guess," she said. "Thanks."

Kyoko's eyes flashed. "Now, don't go thinkin' I did this for you or anything. There's no need to thank me since you'll be doing me a favor later. Got that?"

Sayaka huffed. The lengths she would go to for her best friend amazed her. "Fine, I got it. What do you want, anyways?"

Kyoko smirked, winking at her. "You'll see!"

* * *

Like most days, Homura woke up long before her alarm clock had gone off. The sun hadn't even peeked over the horizon yet to greet her good morning. Next to her, Madoka was sleeping soundly, not at all disturbed by Homura sitting up.

The previous night was a blur of events for her, and it took a minute for her to connect all the dots in her brain. It had been such a pleasure to get to spend so much time with Madoka—even sleeping in the same bed!—but she knew better than to get her hopes up. There were now nine more days.

Homura slipped out of the warm bed and landed lightly on her feet. She tiptoed over to her closet and retrieved a white towel and fresh school uniform. She had six pairs altogether; one for each day of the week and then one extra, just in case.

She knew from past life experiences that one of Madoka's most infuriating traits was her self-doubt. In almost every timeline since the first, Madoka had struggled with accepting herself as she was. She always viewed herself as not enough, and that always pushed her into making a contract with Kyubey so she could _be_ something. Inevitably she would make the greatest sacrifice of all to save the city, because she always thought in that moment that her life was a small price to pay to ensure others' safety. That her own life was not significant enough.

This line of thought always set a fire inside Homura. It was so frustrating to see her friend pave a path of self-destruction for the sake of others that didn't rightly deserve it. The people of this city were nowhere near as selfless as Madoka, nowhere near as good. But Madoka _couldn't see that._

Homura entered the bathroom and began setting up her morning bath. She had spent several timelines simply picking at Madoka's brain, trying to make sense of what made her tick. The more she explored and learned, the more it angered her. Untruths and belittling thoughts about herself hidden beneath Madoka's original strong, magical girl exterior became more prevalent the more timelines Homura lived through. It was as if Madoka had always thought these self-deprecating things about herself, even when she first met her.

The events from yesterday were a stark reminder of how Madoka viewed herself. Homura stepped into the bathtub and sunk into the water.

Madoka's hesitance to be with her like this must have been stemming from these same insecurities. Homura wasn't only fighting dozens of witches, she was in effect fighting against Madoka. Arguably, that was more challenging than the witch battles.

 _I should encourage her to love herself as she is_ , Homura thought. _Perhaps that will put an end to this. If she does that, then there will be no chance for the incubator to entice her. And, better yet… Allow her to do as her heart dictates._

Homura scrubbed her hair gently. Today, she couldn't afford to do that. She had already been far too lax in her preparations for Walpurgis. After school, she would have to sneak into the nearby military facility and "borrow" some of their weapons. Namely, rocket launchers. When night falls she'd have to keep an eye on Sayaka Miki, as today was the typical turning point in her fate. During lunch period, she'd be told that someone else is interested in her crush, Kyousuke Kamijou.

On one hand, Homura thought it incredibly foolish to make a self-damning wish for one's crush. On the other, she would remind herself that she did so too.

Homura finished her bath and dried herself off with her towel, taking great care with her hair. She wasn't looking forward to the more monotonous tasks she needed to do today.

After getting dressed, she brushed her hair and teeth. There was roughly an hour before they'd have to head to school for the day.

"Perhaps I will make breakfast," she said. The memory of the previous morning assaulted her taste buds. Unlike Madoka's heavenly cooking, her meals were always more simple and pragmatic. The taste tended to reflect that, too.

Homura bundled up her dirty clothing and headed back to her bedroom. The bed had been made with great care, the sheets and comforter aligned and smoothed out. Madoka was nowhere to be seen. Homura deposited her clothes in the hamper and headed toward the next possible location Madoka could be in.

Homura leaned her shoulder against the doorway of the kitchen, watching. Madoka had found some leftover rice in the fridge and was repurposing it as onigiri. She was able to make four palm-sized rice balls.

"Good morning," Homura said finally. Madoka jumped, then upon identifying it was just her friend behind her, settled. Madoka had also gotten dressed and had already fixed up her hair. Her condition seemed to be much improved.

"Good morning, Homura!" she responded. "I'm just making us a small lunch for today. I'm afraid I wasn't able to find too much in the way of fillings, so it'll just have salt."

She split the rice balls between the two of them and wrapped them in cloth. Due to Homura's lack of homemaking items, she only had the two matching wrappings. They were a plain white with a cartoon squid on one corner.

"That sounds great," Homura said, walking up to Madoka. She squeezed her hand. "Thank you."

"Well, I did promise you yesterday that I would make you lunch. I'm sorry it's not anything better." Madoka shuffled, her eyes downcast. Homura lifted her chin back with just her index finger.

"It'll be amazing," she said firmly. Remembering her earlier internal debate, she added, " _You're_ amazing, Madoka."

She blushed from the compliment, but more so because she couldn't hide from it. Homura wondered if she introduced enough positive reinforcement, would that be enough?

She smiled and retracted her hand. She began looking through her fridge and cabinets again. Homura continued, "How are you feeling?"

Madoka tapped her fingertips together in front of her chest, evidently not fully recovered from her embarrassment more than anything. "A lot better."

"I'm glad to hear that." Homura inspected the egg carton. Unfortunately, it was empty. All that she had now that remotely fit the bill for breakfast items were the ingredients for toast. She pulled out the bread and butter. "Listen closely, Madoka. After school, I'll make sure you make it home safely. After that, I need you to promise you won't go out tonight."

Madoka frowned. "But Sayaka—"

"I'll take care of it," she said flatly, letting the bread toast. "But I need you to stay safe. I don't know what I would do if you got hurt again."

Madoka crossed her arms and leaned back. She took a deep breath. "Okay, Homura. I understand."

"Promise?"

Madoka looked away. "...I promise."

The toast leapt out of the appliance, like a person surfacing from water after nearly drowning. Homura spread a light coating of butter on the warm bread and handed one to Madoka.

"I'm sorry I don't have anything more… substantial," Homura said. She'd need to go grocery shopping soon, too. Just another task to be added to her mundane chore list.

"Thank you for the food," Madoka said politely. She chowed down the toast in about four bites, then downed an entire glass of water. Homura took smaller bites before deciding she was full. Although typically she'd be daydreaming in this situation, she was much more focused now and had no room in her mind for those pleasantries today.

Madoka sensed her friend's curtness and didn't speak much for the rest of the morning. It wasn't as if she resented the silence—it gave her time to think as well—but she respected other people's desires and boundaries enough to know when they wanted space.

Both of them were wrapped up in their own heads for the majority of their walk to school. Homura, scheming about how many rocket launchers she'd be able to snag, and Madoka, worrying about whether Sayaka would be alright this evening without her presence. With the stuffed pig taking up space in her school bag, Madoka had to carry her lunch parcel separately.

"Hey, Madoka!"

Sayaka ran to catch up to them. Upon reaching them, she breathed heavily from the exertion. Madoka blinked at her.

"Good morning, Sayaka!" she said with a smile. Upon straightening up, Sayaka quirked a brow.

"You're feeling better already? Wow, that's surprising…" Suspicious, Sayaka leaned closer. She sensed a magical residue. Her eyes shifted toward Homura. "It was that bad, huh?"

Homura nodded. "Yes."

"Huh?" Madoka tilted her head, a quizzical expression taking over her face. "What're you talking about, Sayaka?"

"Oh, nothing!" Sayaka hugged her friend. "I'm soooo glad you're back to tip-top shape. Just so you know, I found a way to cover for you yesterday. Your parents think you went to Tokyo for an English exam and didn't tell them. So you'll have to navigate that one on your own now."

Madoka glowered. "What?! My English isn't even _that good_!"

Sayaka laughed. "Well, it's better than mine!"

Homura glanced away from the two and toward the school. Mami Tomoe was about to enter the courtyard. She was on her own, and fixing to head to her class.

"Please excuse me," Homura said, bowing slightly before exiting the conversation. She caught up to Mami just before she entered the building.

"Yes, Homura?" Mami said without turning. Her voice had a twinge of amusement.

"Are you planning on hunting any witches tonight?" Homura questioned. With Madoka out harm's way for the time being, all Homura needed to do was focus on Sayaka and Mami's well-being. Kyoko's survival would follow so long as both of them carried through.

"Of course," Mami said smoothly. She turned around with a polite smile, revealing a sprawling Kyubey over her shoulder. "Does that bother you?"

"Not at all," Homura said. With Mami on lookout tonight, she could focus on other matters. "In fact, I was hoping that's what you'd say."

Kyubey tilted his head. "She's up to something, Mami," he claimed suddenly. "You'd better be on your guard."

 _That explains it_ , Homura thought, gritting her teeth. It was obvious that Mami was acting stiffly—almost _coldly_ —this morning. The incubator was taking Mami for a ride, likely to align her against Homura for his own gains. Unfortunately, seeing as how Kyubey had saved Mami's life, she was the least likely of them all to distrust him.

Mami crossed her arms, a frown stretching across her lips. "I will always protect this city, as it is my duty as a magical girl. So don't get in my way." Then, she smiled. "Have a good day, Homura."

Mami turned back toward the school building and made to enter. Kyubey looked back at her with the same empty eyes he always had. Although he had declared Homura had devious intent, he was the one who was clearly scheming something.

Homura frowned, then noticing that Madoka and Sayaka were about to head to the classroom themselves, figured she'd best do the same. As she walked in the hallway, concern began to blossom in her chest.

She had never had such luck in previous timelines. Madoka, Sayaka, and even Kyoko all seemed to be working together and tolerating Homura's well-meaning duplicity, which was already giving her an extreme advantage. Perhaps it was just this good luck that had put the incubator on edge. Since he was so keen on taking away Madoka's autonomy, this may have been the culmination of his desperate attempts to do just that.

It didn't help that Mami had never trusted her much. It was only because of Madoka that Mami had until this time politely tolerated her presence—but with Kyubey's intervention, this could very well change.

Homura took a seat at her desk and tapped her fingers against it. She would have to deal with this carefully, lest she be forced to start over again. It was as if her internal organs had been replaced with bricks.

That might just break her.


End file.
